RWBYLOVANIA
by kyugan
Summary: Not everyone gets the opportunity to visit other worlds. Well, unless you stumble across a certain 'Merchant' at a convention, then you're guaranteed to be sent somewhere interesting. Sadly, in my case, I never even made it to the convention, getting caught up in a car crash'll kinda ruin anyone's day. Fortunately for me, I was able to take a shortcut. {multi-cross elements}.
1. Epilogue: Dark, Darker yetbrighter?

A little project I'm working on with two good friends, essentially a series of self-inserts/displaced fics. No spoilers for what they're working on but I'll most likely add links later.

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 **Prologue: Darker Dark Yet...Whiter?**

It was amazing how time could change so much. Rivers become valleys, mountains become sand, even ideals can be twisted and warped to the point they barely resemble their original form.

Such was the case with the White Fang, an organisation set up in the wake of the Faunus Revolution to broker goodwill between the two sentient races of Remnant.

However, one of the few things Time could not change easily is ignorance and resentment. Both sides had paid a heavy price during the war, but the humiliation of being outmaneuvered by Faunus-kind led to Humanity finding alternate means of getting even. While the laws signed following the revolution prevented discrimination against Faunus, there were few who would go the extra mile to enforce them, and far too many who would simply look away.

As a result, while it was possible for Faunus to live among Humans they found themselves struggling just to get by. Those who managed to find work found themselves working for minimum wage, and even then there were many organisations that took advantage of their desperation. The greatest offender in this regard was none other than the Atlesian Schnee Dust Corporation, the largest refiner and provider of most of the World's supply of Dust and affiliated technology.

While the original founder of the company had been one of the first to embrace the non-discrimination laws, his son's business morals were a lot more…flexible. On paper he was quite magnanimous, providing a valuable resource to the world whilst providing honest work for a hard-working race that had fought hard for just that: A chance to make a life for themselves.

In actuality he was little more than a tyrant, forcing the Faunus to work in conditions not even hardened criminals should be forced into for minimum wage, taking advantage of their natural physical abilities to cut costs on safety equipment and gear, even going so far as to have them work in the dark without proper lighting, citing there was no need to for it when they could see perfectly fine.

It was a calculated insult, reducing the very trait that all Faunus had in common, that had brought them their finest victory over the humans, to a mere tool to line the pockets of the man who considered their lives expendable.

The White Fang had, naturally, objected to such treatment, calling for a boycott on all Schnee brand products and affiliated companies, only to be met time and again with failure, for while President Schnee's actions certainly drew their fair share of criticism, there was little the public could actually do about it, as there weren't any companies capable of competing with the SDC, the few who could had long been bought out or driven into the ground by President Schnee's wealth and connections.

Finally, after wasting five years in a futile attempt to reach a peaceful solution, the pacifistic leadership of the White Fang were forced to acknowledge the voices crying out for more 'effective' action, and thus stood down in favor of the more militant faction.

For Adam Taurus, this was the moment he'd been waiting on his entire life, the moment he and his comrades convinced their cousins to cast aside their self-imposed shackles and strike back at their oppressors, and who better to start with than the thrice damned Schnee Dust Corporation? Some would have been content with simply raiding their Dust facilities, liberating their oppressed cousins from the mines or looting the refineries, but Adam's cell took things a step further, going so far as kidnapping, torturing and murdering anyone with connections to President Schnee.

It was meant to be a calculated message, meant to inform the Schnee family and humanity at large that there was nowhere their fangs couldn't reach, and a call to arms for their cousins to cast aside their self-imposed shackles and rise up for the second revolution. It therefore came as something of a shock when the call to arms was met with derision and contempt as the majority of their fellow Faunus, even the ones they 'liberated' from the mines, denounced them as 'bloodthirsty animals', regarding them as monsters on par with the Grimm, if not worse.

Such things mattered little to Adam. After all, in the grand scheme of things, what did it matter if a few human loving fools got caught in the crossfire because they refused to remove the blindfolds that humanity had forced on them, too scared of retribution to stand up for themselves? In the end, anyone who stood in the path of the White Fang was simply another obstacle to be overcome.

And Adam Taurus was VERY good at making obstacles disappear.

That being said, since the White Fang no longer had the full backing and support of all Faunus kind, it was pretty clear that they were fighting a war of attrition with no-end in sight, for unlike General Lagune, the current leaders of Humanity had learned from their mistakes and weren't letting their guards down just because their enemies lacked the resources to challenge them head-on.

It was infuriating, to think they finally broke free of the shackles keeping them from fighting back, only to be forced to cower like rats, sneaking out to bite at their foes only to scuttle back into the shadows to avoid being squashed.

And then along came Cinder Fall and everything changed.

At first, Adam didn't know what to make of this human woman. On the one hand, he applauded her nerve for walking into the proverbial wolf's den with only two overconfident teenagers as back up. On the other hand, the very fact she presumed he'd entertain her offer of allegiance was so laughable he actually gave her the option to leave before he cleaved her head from her shoulders.

The White Fang were not mercenaries. They weren't guns for hire. They were no-one's pawns to be discarded. They were his comrades, his brothers in blood, a revolutionary army that would fight and die for no-one's cause but their own, and certainly not for some madwoman's mysterious agenda.

He'd thought he was being generous when he allowed them to leave with their lives, when by all rights he should have killed them simply because they'd seen their camp. But Adam had more pressing concerns, namely the upcoming heist of an SDC Freight Train hauling Dust to Mistral.

Given the importance of the mission, both in terms of its tactical value and the fact they'd be stealing from the Schnee, Adam would be handling the mission personally, partially because they lacked the manpower to send in a team in without leaving the camp undermanned and partially because there was no telling what defenses the SDC would have in place to protect the cargo.

Not that he'd be going in alone of course, for all his power he wasn't so arrogant as to believe himself untouchable, but there was only one person in the camp he trusted to watch his back, and it just so happened she was the one who would be accompanying him.

Blake Belladonna was a lifetime member of the White Fang, dating back to the 'old days' when they were content to hold futile peaceful protests and rallies. While she hadn't approved of the new regimes shift to more violent action, her dedication to the cause was second only to Adam's own, and her skill in battle was such that they often found themselves paired together on missions back when he was still climbing the ladder.

At first their relationship was simply professional, they were comrades, nothing more, nothing less. As time went on however, and they were continuously paired together for missions, they found themselves growing ever closer to one another, becoming friends, partners, confidants. To Adam, who despite devoting his life to the cause, despite pushing aside all other comforts for the sake of the mission, Blake was like a light in the darkness, a breath of fresh air, the only person he felt safe enough to confide his secrets and regrets with, the only person he allowed himself to be completely unguarded around, the only person he allowed to witness his weakest moments, she was, for all intents and purposes, the other half of his soul.

Which is why it hurt so much when she betrayed him and ran away.

If he closed his eyes he could still remember how beautiful she looked, reclining on a rock beneath a tree, watching the sun rise as they waited for the train to arrive. If he focused, he could recall the clash of steel and the crack of gunpowder as they tore a swathe through the small army of Atlesian Knight-130's that President Schnee had clearly used his considerable influence to acquire from the Military, the rage he felt as he watched his beloved fend off the giant spider-droid while he charged up his semblance for the final blow.

In his nightmares, he could still see the forlorn look in his eyes as she cut the cables holding the train cars to the train, her form vanishing into the distance along with his heart even as he reached for her.

He'd returned to the camp shaken and torn, though he managed to maintain his stoic mask even in the face of his lieutenant's offer to hunt her down, like all the other traitors. Part of him, the part consumed with rage over her betrayal, was sorely tempted to accept the offer, but in the end he shot the man down, not just because he was still trying to figure out what could have possibly driven Blake to betray them, but because he wanted to be the one to track down his beloved.

In the end though, it all turned out to be moot, for it was at that moment that Cinder returned, having somehow managed to steal the powers of one of the Four Maidens, to once again make Adam an offer for an allegiance. Only this time, she made it abundantly clear that refusal would not end well for him.

It was at that moment, as he stared into her glowing eyes and saw the madness, power and all-consuming hunger burning inside that Adam realized he should have gut the witch when he had the chance. Someone with power like that, power that defied explanation, that didn't share the White Fang's vision, was too dangerous to be trusted with the lives of his comrades.

Still, what choice did he have at that point? Sure he and his lieutenant could've cut down her two partners, if only to wipe the smug looks from their faces, but even if Adam wasn't still reeling from Blake's betrayal he could tell at a glance that Cinder could easily wipe the floor with both of them and would do so without a second thought before moving on to the other White Fang leaders with her offer.

No, if Adam wanted to come out of this ahead, he had to play Cinder's game. So he agreed to her offer of an alliance, on the condition that no-one was to give orders to his troops but him. In exchange, Cinder agreed to provide the White Fang with the resources they sorely needed: Enough Lien to purchase cutting edge military hardware to properly outfit their troops, and enough Dust to not only arm them, but also cripple their enemies.

And in that regard, the witch had delivered. In less than a year the White Fang went from a thorn in the Humanity's' side to a Dagger posed at their throat, only kept at bay by the persistent efforts of the military and the Huntsmen. In exchange, Adam ensured that his comrades toed the line, swallowing his pride behind a stoic mask, feigning compliance while making it absolutely clear to his troops that once the witch had outlived her usefulness, the very second she showed the slightest weakness, he'd rectify his past mistake and cleave her head from her shoulders.

If Cinder ever suspected Adam's blood-lust she never let on, always conducting herself like some master manipulator, though Adam suspected she herself was simply yet another piece in some-one else's game, especially considering she never revealed the identity of her mysterious 'associate' whose plan they were expected to carry out.

And what a plan it was. Adam would freely admit that when he first heard it he thought she was simply trying to butter him up. But no matter how hard he dug, no matter what buttons he pressed, the answer remained the same - Anarchy; Destruction; Humanity driven to the brink through the destruction of the three pillars of their oppressive society: The corrupt governments, the oppressive military, and the self-righteous Huntsmen Training Academies.

To say that Adam approved of this plan would be an understatement. Even if it all turned out to be just part of some 'bigger scheme' it still didn't change the fact that this was EXACTLY what the White Fang wanted, humanity driven to the brink of extinction by the very race they sought to wipe out all those years ago. If Cinder pulled a fast one later on, they'd simply sever ties with and disappear, leaving her without her precious forces , though given how powerful she'd become since stealing the Fall Power, Adam doubted the entire Atlesian Military could stand against her.

For now though, the White Fang were content to keep following her orders, more often than not delivered through her spokesman, self-proclaimed 'Criminal Mastermind' Roman Torchwick. Under his relayed instructions, they set up a base of operations in the underground ruins of Mountain Glenn, just outside the City of Vale. From there, they began orchestrating a series of Dust Robberies, all of which were routed back to the hideout before being shipped off to various other locations in order to avoid drawing too much attention, both from the authorities and the Grimm.

Adam would freely admit, despite his disgust for the man and his agenda Roman proved to be quite capable for a human. Indeed, if Adam didn't know any better he'd assume the man was part snake, or Fox if he was feeling generous. True, the way he managed to ingratiate himself to the younger members of the Fang with his silver tongue was troubling, but aside from that the man wasn't as big a threat as he made himself out to be.

A sentiment that was validated when the man turned up dead following a failed heist, his mangled corpse left for all to see, crucified in broad daylight beneath a message written in his own blood:

 ** _'_ _STRIKE ONE, YOU YIFFY MOTHER-FUCKERS'_**

While understandably enraged by the loss of Roman this early in the game, as the man's contacts had all fled the city like rats fleeing a sinking ship not long after his death, Cinder had simply brushed the matter aside, as she was quite capable of overseeing their operations at this point.

What wasn't so easily brushed aside was the loss of Emerald Sustari and Mercury Black.

With Roman's death and the disappearance of Neo Politan, Cinder had tasked the pair with picking up the slack while Cinder oversaw operations, and their first task involved tracking down Tucson, a White Fang Deserter and veteran member of the 'Old Guard', much like his beloved had been.

While Tucson's combat skills weren't anything special in Adam's opinion, his true strength lay in espionage, using his lack of defining Faunus traits to infiltrate society to perform covert operations, ranging from Intel-Gathering, setting up safe houses and sabotaging government facilities. As a result, the man had accumulated a wealth of information vital not only to the White Fang, but to Cinder's little operation once they joined forces, which made it all the more imperative he be taken out before his bleeding heart got them all killed.

The only reason Torchwick put the matter off for so long as he had was due to Cinder ordering he focus his attention on 'acquiring' as much Dust as he could, which to the man's credit he accomplished, amassing a stockpile so large it was unlikely they'd run out anytime soon. With Cinder handling things it should've been child's play for Mercury, a trained assassin, and Emerald, whose semblance could manipulate the senses, to put the traitor out of his misery.

Which is why it came as something a surprise, and not an entirely unpleasant one, when word got back that not only had the two been brutally murdered, their corpses mutilated to the point even Adam felt something bordering on pity for them, but that Tucson had seemingly vanished into thin air. Normally Adam would have savored the look of impotent rage on Cinder's face when she heard the news, but refrained from doing so out of a desire to keep from being burnt alive, and because it was clearly the work of the same party that offed Torchwick, evidenced by the message left behind:

 ** _'_ _STRIKE TWO, YOU YIFFY MOTHER-FUCKERS'_**

It was clear by this point that someone was gunning for their allies, someone clearly affiliated with neither Ozpin nor Ironwood, as Cinder had confirmed that both men were looking for the perpetrator with just as much zeal as she was.

It was almost cathartic, watching the smug, arrogant bitch struggle to reign in her temper. While Roman's loss had been a minor irritation, as by that point the Fang were more than capable of pulling off heists on their own, the loss of Neo, Emerald and Mercury had severely hindered her plans.

The initial plan had been to use the sealed-off underground rail systems that connected Mountain-Glenn to Vale to transport several trains loaded to the brim with dust and time bombs to blast a gaping hole in the city's defenses during the Vytal Tournament, allowing the hordes of Grimm drawn by the amassed negativity to infest the city, all while broadcasting the event to the world.

Unfortunately, due to the deaths of Roman and her pawns and the unforeseen discovery of the Mountain Glenn outpost by a team of Trainee Huntresses, whose number Adam was stunned to learn included his beloved in the follow-up report, lieutenant had been forced to execute Stage 1 early to cover their tracks in the resulting chaos of what the media fittingly referred to as 'The Breach'.

Adam would freely admit that part of him had wanted to enact the second stage immediately after Blake's presence was confirmed at Beacon, but the more logical part of him resisted the temptation. For one thing, there was still their mysterious assassin to contend with, and while they clearly hadn't made an appearance during The Breach that was by no means a reason to assume they were dead. For another, the loss of her pawns had forced Cinder to reconsider her approach, as she had been banking on their unique talents for the second stage,

Originally she'd intended to use Emerald's semblance to force Pyrrha Nikos, the four-time Mistral champion and arguably the most talented student at Beacon of her generation to brutally murder her opponent during the Vytal Tournament, broadcasting the event worldwide in order to sow the seeds of chaos and discontent by ruining people's faith in the Government, the Military and the Huntsmen.

Without Emerald, they were forced to rely on more…drastic measures, namely the destruction of the Amity Coliseum through the use of strategically placed explosives. Soon enough, the hour they had all been waiting for had arrived. No sooner had Cinder sent out her broadcast to the world to spread suspicion and paranoia amongst the masses did Adam finally gave the long awaited order to charge.

Thus began the invasion of Beacon Academy, the White Fang reveling at the chance to finally bare their fangs at one of the symbols of their oppressors, cutting down all who stood in their way, whether it was Atlesian soldiers, Hunter Trainees or civilians, all while the Grimm they smuggled into the city went on a rampage, dividing the enemy's forces.

Adam had to admit it was refreshing to finally see their plans come to fruition, but nothing could compare to the elation he felt when he happened across his beloved in the Academy's disgustingly opulent dining hall, her feature locked in a mask of horrified disbelief as he casually dispatched one of Ironwood's grunts.

"Hello, my darling." He greeted, smiling sardonically as he turned to face her, all the conflicting emotions within him coming to a point as she took a cautionary step back, like the cornered cat she was "Running away again?" he mocked, knowing better than anyone that the best way to keep her from fleeing was to attack her pride "Is that what you've become, my love? A coward?

"Why are you doing this?" Blake demanded, clearly shaken by his appearance, her eyes filled with confused disbelief, mounting horror and, dare he say it, a hint of betrayal? As if she had the right to feel betrayed.

"You and I were going to change the world, remember?" he reminded his beloved, striding confidently towards her all the while drawing Wilt from its sheath "We were destined to light the fires of revolution!"

Pausing over the still form of another Atlesian Grunt, he smiled mockingly at his beloved, watching in satisfaction as her golden eyes widened in realization as he aimed the tip of his weapon at the unconscious fool's chest.

"Consider this...a spark."

As predicted, his beloved's misplaced sense of justice overrode her common sense, causing her to lunge for him with the same grace and ferocity that had made her such a valued asset to the Fang. As she drew closer, she drew Gambol Shroud from her back, the black blade clashing with Wilt as she actually forced him back a few steps.

"I'm... not... running." She growled, and Adam couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful she looked, golden eyes blazing with determination, her ebony locks wild and untamed, even as her ears lay flat against her skull in anger.

"You will." He promised her, shifting slightly so that he could deliver a retaliatory kick to her midriff, catching his beloved off-guard and sending her flying backwards to the air to land in a heap on the ground. A nearby Creep, no doubt drawn to their battle by his malicious, conflicted emotions, quickly turned its attentions to her downed form, only for Adam to dispatch the brute before it could even get close enough to catch her scent with a well-placed shot from blush.

"But not before you suffer for your betrayal, my love." He promised, his smile giving away to a snarl of rage as he towered over her trembling form "This could've been our day!" he snapped, glaring down at her accusingly, trying to make her see reason "Can't you see that!?

"I never wanted this!" Blake shot back, her eyes filled with stubborn defiance even as she matched him, glare for glare even as she transformed Gambol Shroud and levelled it at his head "I wanted equality! I wanted peace!"

"What you want is impossible!" Adam shot back, deflecting both bullets with well-timed sword strikes before re-sheathing Wilt and backhanding his beloved, sending her tumbling back to the floor "But I understand…because all I want is you, Blake.

It was clear his words affected her as she hesitated for the briefest of seconds as she raised Gambol Shroud for another shot, allowing him the opening he needed to kick it out of her hand, knocking her over once again.

"And as I set out upon this world and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves," he vowed, leaning over his beloved to look her in the eyes "I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love."

"Blake!" a voice called out, drawing their attention to the broken windows just in time to see an admittedly buxom Blonde take down one of Adam's comrades with a shot to the face "Blake! Where are you?!"

Adam's grip on wilt tightened, not just because of the blonde's attack on his comrade, but because he recognized her from the report regarding his beloved's Team-mates. When he'd first read the report, he hadn't given the blonde or the child much thought as he was still reeling with shock and revulsion at the revelation that his beloved was playing buddy-buddy with Weiss Schnee, the prodigal heiress and younger daughter of their hated nemesis, the President of the Schnee Dust Corporation.

At first he tried to rationalize it away, clearly Blake was simply using the situation to earn her way into the heiress' trust so that she could assassinate her. After all, it wasn't like the Fang hadn't considered doing so the moment they learned the little brat was leaving the security of Atlas, where the SDC's influence was strongest, to become a student at Beacon.

But as time passed it became abundantly clear that his beloved had not only betrayed their cause, she'd gone so far as to sell her pride to become one of the Schnee's lackeys, even going so far as to turn her fangs on her former comrades to protect her from their righteous wrath.

There would be a reckoning for that. By the night's end he vowed, if nothing else, that he would personally mount Weiss Schnee's head on pike for her Father, no, for the entire world to see, to drive home the fact that there was nowhere the humans could run to escape the White Fang's justice. For now, however, he'd settle for giving his undivided attention to punishing Yang Xiao-Long, the arrogant brat that dared to usurp his position as Blake's 'Partner'.

"Starting with her." He promised, relishing the terrified expression on his beloved's face as he drew Wilt and stabbed down, intending to pierce her abdomen to make her cry out, baiting his beloved's 'partner' here so he could cut her down while Blake was powerless to do anything but watch.

It therefore came as something of a shock when not only did his sword come to a halt a hair's breadth from penetrating Blake's pale, smooth, milky-white skin, but he found himself unable to move a muscle.

'What-?' he exclaimed, or tried to at least, for his jaw, like the rest of his body, was suddenly unable to move, his eyes locking onto Blake's, which were likewise startled by this development, just before a tremendous force, like being caught in a giant hand, gripped his form and hurled him backwards across the hall away from his beloved, vanishing the instant he crashed head-first into a pillar, sending him tumbling to the ground amidst the rubble.

"Whoa there Casanova." A lazy voice drawled out from the shadows, Adam forcing himself to look up through the pain, his aura having absorbed most of the damage, "You can't just go thrusting it in like that, didn't your ma ever teach you manners?"

"Who…?" Adam growled, pushing himself slowly back to his feet, glancing around beneath his mask as he tried to locate the source of the voice and whatever the hell had sent him flying "Who's there?"

"I mean at the very least you could've taken her out for a classy dinner and a trashy movie." The voice drawled, sounding amused for some infernal reason "Though considering it IS Blake we're talking about you probably could've pulled it off with an all-you-can-eat-sushi joint and a copy of Ninjas of Love: The Ninja-ning."

"Hey!" Blake exclaimed, her confusion giving way to righteous indignation as she glared at the source of the voice, a shadowy figure standing not too far from where she lay, clad in what looked like a simple blue hoodie with fur trim over a pair of cargo shorts and sandals "What are you implying?!"

"It ain't implying when it's true Pussy-Willow." The figure chuckled, earning an embarrassed glare from Blake for the nickname "Or are you telling me you aren't addicted to tuna and soft-core hentai Light Novels?"

"It's not hentai!" Blake shot back, leaping to her feet, one of which she stamped petulantly as she glared at the figure, Adam apparently forgotten, much to his understandable irritation.

"Can't help but notice you're not denying having an addiction though." The figure chuckled, Adam's blood boiling as he watched him reach out to ruffle Blake's hair as if petting a cat while she groaned into her palms in embarrassment "I'm proud of ya kid, takes a big person to admit they got a problem."

"Get your filthy hands off her!" Adam snarled, lunging forwards with Wilt sheathed at his side, intending to cleave the man's arm off at the elbow, only to pull up short as he was forced to deflect an attack from what appeared to be an arrow of light.

"Yeah, you just take it easy there Samurai Jackass." The figure chortled, Adam's eyes narrowing, his night vision piercing the shadows, revealing a tall teen with a shock of white hair set above a cock-sure grin that promised nothing but mischief. "See, normally I wouldn't dream of getting' in the middle of a Lover's Spat, WAY too much work for so little payoff." he mused even as he continued to pat Blake's hair, or rather, fondle her ears despite her attempts to stop him "But Y'see, this particular stray happens to belong to a friend of mind, and trust me, she doesn't like anyone else playing rough with her pussy."

"So here's the deal." He continued while Blake's protests devolved in to embarrassed choking noises, her face bright red from mortification "Option A: You crawl back into your hole like the flea-ridden, cowardly rat-bastard we both know you are, and I'll pretend you didn't just try to stab my friend in the gut. Or you can go with Option B and attack me."

"Now personally, I'd suggest you go with option A…" the teen admitted while shrugging nonchalantly, allowing Blake to escape his ministrations even as he grinned cheekily at Adam "'cause the only thing waiting for you if you cross that line is a Bad Time."

"Don't you look down on me, HUMAN!" Adam snarled, lunging forwards with Wilt held in a ready stance, intending to cleave the arrogant bastard in half, only to shiver as he finally met the teen's eyes.

"Well…can't say I didn't warn ya…" the teen sighed, all traces of geniality vanishing from his eyes, replaced with the same madness and power Adam saw in Cinder's that day so long ago, an ominous blue flame, like a will-o-the-wisp, forming in the left socket as he held his palm towards him, the one lazy smile now a mocking, skeletal leer.

 **"** **Get Dunked on, you Yiffy Mother-Fucker."**

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Well, that was a thing.

Pretty sure we can all guess what the themes for this is.


	2. Chapter 1: Death & Rebirth

Reactions to this seem to be going well so here's the first official chapter.

I own two things, Jack & Shit, neither of which have anything to do with RWBY or Undertale.

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 **Chapter 1 – Death and Rebirth**

Some wise scholar, whose name has no-doubt been long lost to the ravages of time and even more likely had been old as fuck, twice as bitter and quite possibly hung over, had once said 'Life's a bitch, and then you die', shortly before getting into a fistfight with his bar-neighbor for hogging all the honey roasted salted peanuts.

Normally I wouldn't have given such a pessimistic outlook much thought, but considering I was currently among the living impaired, I have to admit there was a modicum of truth to those drunken ramblings.

Don't get me wrong, my life wasn't all that bad. Average childhood, a loving supportive family, decent friends both online and off and a job that, while hardly well-paying, was enough to let me help out with the bills a little.

Still not too clear as to how that translated to me being the one to pay the cable bill though. I mean sure, chipping in for the electricity or internet I could understand because god knows everyone was using those, but I didn't even watch television those days, so why the hell was I paying for a service I didn't use?

Because the women in my family outnumbered the men two to one and Heaven help my dad or I if we got between them and the latest episode of 'Say Yes to the Dress' or 'Game of Thrones'.

God I miss them.

Where was I? Oh yeah, as I said before my life wasn't all that bad. Sure there were some ups and downs and I'd steadily gained weight since graduating from college and compulsory gym classes, but all of the problems I faced thus far were either work related, thankfully someone-else's fault, or could easily be solved by paying a fine, making a quick trip to the doctor or venting my frustrations through video-games.

One game in particular that had caught my interest recently was a self-aware RPG by the name of Undertale, a recently released Kick-starter game in the style of Earthbound, or Mother 2 for those purists out there, created by Toby Fox, the genius behind the unofficial 'Halloween Hack' of the aforementioned Mother Sequel.

The game followed the misadventures of a human child, Frisk, as they sought to escape from the monster-filled ruins of Mt. Ebott and return to the surface. Not that the monsters were inherently evil mind you, despite encountering most of them as traditional 'random encounters', you could opt to defeat them non-violently. Indeed, the 'True' Ending of the game could only be achieved by completing a Full 'Pacifist' Run, never killing a single monster, which could get frankly ridiculous when you considered how insane the boss battles could get.

Won't go into too many details, because in all honesty Undertale is a game best experienced blind and heaven help anyone who deliberately spoils it for others, but let's just say that because of one Boss Battle in particular I have never been able to look at muffins the same way again.

Freaking spiders…never going to be enough fire. cafe

Where was I? Ah right, so one day I'm trying to sort out some paperwork in the office that was due three weeks ago but got misfiled because our resident intern, whom everyone affectionately referred to as 'Ass-hat', spent more time on his damn I-phone seducing Pokémon waifus than earth. Stupid bastard couldn't spell to save his life either.

So there I am, watching the little bastard try to rub his pixilated balls on some electric rodent while considering my options for homicide when I get a call from two guys I would proudly declare my 'Bros' inviting me to tag along to some anime convention going down over the summer.

Of course I was hyped to go, but getting the time off would be troublesome, not only because things were getting busy for the company but because my direct superior was the kind of hardass who couldn't get a stiffy unless he'd spent most of the day making other people hate his guts.

He also happened to be Asshat's dad, which explained so much now that I think about it.

Fortunately for me, my busy schedule, and by that I meant the hours my Department spent correcting Ass-Hat's mistakes, meant I'd saved up a not inconsiderable amount of paid leave. All it took was a quick word with the boss following a staff meeting and I was free as a bird for the next two weeks while Ass-Hat was forced to clean up after himself for what was most likely the first time since his mother Queefed him out of her womb.

I apologize most heartily for the mental scarring that image may have caused you.

All I needed to do was pack a change of clothes, cash, and of course, pick out a costume. What? Don't look at me like that. It's practically a tradition to attend an Anime Convention in costume. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either a miser or a filthy casual. Or Both.

In any case most of you can probably already see where I'm going with this, but for those of you still catching up, after playing through Undertale a few (dozen) times, I found myself hooked like so much of the gaming community. So much so that no sooner had the words 'convention' entered my brain during the phone call did I realize precisely who I was going as.

From the moment he first appeared stalking Frisk when they left the safety of Toriel's home in the ruins, Sans the Skeleton had quickly become a fan favorite thanks to his sense of humor, hilarious repartee with his brother Papyrus, and the sheer mystery that surrounded his existence.

Just who was this lazy, wisecracking, ketchup-chugging skellington who could seemingly break the fourth wall, teleport, walk through walls and was considered by many to be the hardest boss in the entire game? Lord knew his theme song kicked all sorts of ass.

Fan and Game Theories aside, unless Toby Fox himself stepped up and outright and spilled the beans, it was unlikely that Sans', and by extension Papyrus', shady past would ever be clearly defined. And in all actuality that suited the Fanbase just fine. After all, half the fun of a Fanbase was making shit up to expand upon the lore of the series.

It's one of the reason the 'Soulsborne' series was so popular despite being purposefully designed by the developers to make you rage-quit, the lore of the series was simply so ripe it allowed the community to build on it from there and expand. Hell, even the butt-hurt 'Genociders' who died countless times to his Karmic Retribution loved the bonehead.

Now as much as I'd like to wax poetic about my choice of costume, to be completely honest it was also a practical decision for me to make, partially because I lacked the confidence to pull off some of the wilder looks you get from other series and partially because it was just so much easier to put together Sans' costume. After all, it was a lot easier to dress up in a jacket, shorts and slippers than it was to pull off some of the outfits other characters got away with. Plus, Skeleton masks were like a dime a dozen even when it wasn't Halloween.

My bros of course, lambasted me for my cheapness the moment they see me saunter out to the car in my costume. I simply remind them of just how much money the shelled out for their own costumes which they will most likely only wear once and the argument quickly devolves into manly posturing until some inconsiderate neighbor called the police, forcing us to book before we spent the holiday in a cell with a giant muscular psychopath called Betty.

Lesson for the day kids: Don't do drugs kids. Not even once.

The trip to the con was just the kind of thing you'd expect when you cram three guys in a car without any other form of entertainment but each other, namely well-intentioned ribbing and attempts at one-upmanship between pit-stops to refuel and unwind. We took shifts driving, swapping out at each rest-stop so that the previous driver could rest his eyes in the back seat. I was currently riding shotgun, idly flipping through a Hellboy novel when I swear I spotted something behind me in the rear-view mirror.

At first I thought it was just my pal screwing around, but nope, he was still sawing through redwoods with his back to us. Yet I could clearly see what looked like a cracked skull mask looking back at me with a creepy, yet somehow lonesome smile. I would have investigated further were it not for my wing-man's startled cry of "HOLY SHIT!" snapping me out of my thoughts. whipping round just in time to spot the massive semi-truck that was barreling towards us, having smashed through the barrier separating the lanes.

A part of me, the part not currently shitting myself or screaming like a little girl, dimly noted that I could just make out the face of the driver of the incoming vehicle, noting distantly that he eyes were bagged and bloodshot, meaning he most likely fell asleep at the wheel due to hauling that massive load around for God only knew how long.

Such thoughts were quickly driven from my mind upon impact, a light flashing behind my eyeballs as my head smashed into the dashboard before everything went dark.

* * *

 ** _Play: Dark Darker yet Darker...(Gaster's Theme)_**

The first thing I felt as I gradually regained consciousness was a strange feeling of weightlessness, not unlike floating in a bathtub, only without the comforting warmth of a nice hot soak. Not that I was in any pain mind you, indeed, the fact I was currently pain-free after face planting the dashboard came as something of a surprise, though by no means an unpleasant one.

What troubled me was the fact I couldn't feel anything at all. Not whatever was supporting me or anything attached to me. I could steel feel my limbs and move them, thank fuck, so at least I wasn't paralyzed. However, even the slightest movement seemed to take forever and even opening my eyes served no purpose, as all that stretched before me was darkness. So dark that it was a marvel I could even see myself.

'Well this sucks.' I couldn't help but sigh, unable to do anything but float helplessly in darkness so thick he might as well keep his eyes shut. 'Didn't even make it to the con…only upside to this is now Ass-Hat is stuck doing my work full-time.'

It was strange really, how well I was taking all this. I mean, back when the truck was barreling towards the car I am not ashamed to admit I literally shit my pants, but now it was if I couldn't care any less if I physically tried. Maybe there was something to the whole 'Glandular' thing Pratchett's Death kept going on about?

As it stood, instead of panic, anger or any other emotions one would normally expect from being dead, I found myself feeling apathetic at best, as if my doubtlessly horrible, painful death was something I'd read about in passing in a newspaper before skipping to the crosswords. Apathy quickly gave way to boredom however, but with little else to do but float in the void, for without a source of light it was hard to tell if I was moving at all, I opted to simply close my eyes and lie back to see how long this so-called 'Eternal Rest' thing worked out.

As it turned out, it didn't last very long.

 _ **Well now...Isn't this an interesting development...**_

I don't know how or why but much like The Voice of Death of The Discworld the 'voice' of my visitor simply popped into existence in my brain, though calling it a 'voice' wasn't quite accurate, it was more like strange symbols simply popped into existence in my head without bothering to give my retinas so much as a 'by your leave'. To make matters worse, I got the distinct impression that rather than 'seeing' the letters, I was 'hearing' them, though my ears were likewise excluded from the deal, as if someone had decided to just cut-out the middleman and dump the words in my brain directly.

But rather than alarm at their sudden presence, the only thing I felt as I opened my eyes was curiosity. After all, it isn't every day you suddenly find yourself fluent in wingdings…even less frequent so that you encounter someone who can seemingly broadcast their thoughts in it.

"Doctor W.D Gaster, I presume." I greeted the figure hovering before me, or more accurately, the leering, skull-like face, set with a crooked, black jack-o-lantern smile and two cracked, empty eye sockets. Though it was impossible to make out anything else, a pair of skeleton hands with holes in the palms hovered before the figure, giving it the facsimile of wearing a black coat over its frame.

W.D Gaster, arguably the most mysterious character in Undertale due to the fact that there was simply so little revealed about him. The only things known for certain was that he was Alphys' predecessor as the Royal Scientist, that he designed the Underground Core to power the Monster's Civilization and that he began the Determination Experiments on Asgore's orders only to mysteriously vanish.

Despite supposedly 'erasing himself from existence', he would make the odd appearance in-game, normally in the form of hard-to-find secrets that more often than not make the game crash upon discovery, so it was understandable why so many Fans had alternate depictions of the Man That Speaks in Hands.

 _ **Fascinating...I do not believe I ever introduced myself...**_

"What can I say? The multiverse is a strange place." I quipped, offering a lazy smile to the displaced monster "I don't suppose you're here to take my soul or something?"

 _ **Heavens no. I merely detected some new presences in the void and decided to investigate...it's been a long time since I had company after all.**_

"I can imagine, bumping into Frisk probably startled you outta your skin…so to speak." I mused, and I swear to whatever concept of a righteous God you may have I saw that creepy smile of his widen just a crack at my poor attempt at humour "So I guess that means we're roomies huh?"

 _ **Sadly, no. As much as I would treasure your companionship, your spirit is merely passing through the void to whatever after-life you humans believe in.**_

"Shame…I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but then I suppose it wouldn't be fair to the others if I got inside info but couldn't spread it online."

 _ **You are taking your current state of mortality surprisingly well...for a human.**_

"It's a glandular thing." I quoted, earning a curious head tilt from the displaced Monster "Sorry, Meta-humour, but it doesn't really matter in the long run. I mean, what would even be the point of getting angry? It's not like being angry can bring you back to life.

 _ **True...though the same cannot be said for Determination.**_

"Come again?" I asked, blinking at the Man Who Spoke in Hands in what might have passed for confusion if I could have seen my own face "What're you talking about?"

 _ **Do you want to live? Would you be willing to risk anything to live again?**_

"You got a plan doc?" I enquired, curiosity overwhelming my confusion as I felt a sudden pang in my heart. Not quite painful, more like an echo of something I'd been on the verge of forgetting.

 _ **From our discussion I'm certain you at least know something as to how I came to be here, correct? Then you should know that while I cannot interact with the world at large, that doesn't stop me from existing there.**_

"Like the door behind the waterfall or the locked room at the hotel." I concurred, recalling two notable in-game incidents where Gaster briefly manifested "What's your point."

 _ **Due to the nature of how I came to be here, I cannot exist in the material world for long, it takes immense concentration just to manifest an intangible shade. However, a human soul is different, it lingers after death even when the body is long gone.**_

"So, what, you're saying there's a chance I could live again?" I prompted, that strange, familiar feeling growing within me all the time.

 _ **I cannot say for certain...but what have you to lose?**_

He had a point. Hell even if the plan failed and I wound up in the void for all eternity it wouldn't be all that bad with Gaster for company. It wasn't as if I had anything like fear to hold me back either. What was the worst that could happen to a dead man after all? "What the hell, let's get this show on the road."

 _ **Very well. If you are determined...then give me your hand.**_

I'll admit, even floating in the void, with no other emotions to my name, I felt a shiver race up my spine as Gaster's skeletal hand hovered closer to me, waiting for me to cross the remaining distance and take it.

It wasn't fear or apprehension, I lacked the glands for that. It wasn't even revulsion, as aside from the hole in the 'palm' there was no difference between Gaster's hand and those of a regular skeleton.

It was only after I grasped that alien hand, felt those cold fingers grip my own in a bony embrace that was simultaneously cold and empty, that I realised the feeling welling up inside had been DETERMINATION.

* * *

 _ **Play - Mysterious Place**_

When I next came to my first assumption was that Gaster's gambit had failed and I was still trapped hovering in the void between life and death. The first clue I had that anything was different from before was the fact I could suddenly feel again. Not just emotions, of which surprise and confusion were paramount, but also the sensation of touch, which was currently engaged in processing the strange, alien, yet at the same time comforting feeling enveloping my body.

'If Gaster screwed me over then this isn't too bad…' I mused, giving up all attempts to open my eyes, which felt heavy as lead for some reason, in favour of savouring the strange, comforting warmth I was floating in 'Wait…floating?'

Indeed unlike the void, where I had been unable to feel anything at all, I could tell at an instant that my new location was decidedly wetter, though not unpleasantly so. To make matters even more confusing, I appeared to be curled up in a foetal position as I hovered in the embrace of the warm liquid.

Strangely enough, despite the return of my emotions, I couldn't find it in myself to be concerned about this development. Even the fact I was unable to move didn't concern me in the slightest, I was simply content to lie here, letting my worries wash away like I was soaking my soul in a hot bath.

It was an alien yet comforting feeling and yet for some reason I couldn't help but feel like I'd been here before, or a place very much like it at the very least.

'Just where did you send me Gaster?' I wondered, struggling once again to crack even a single eye open only to be met with a darkness comparable to the void, though decidedly less oppressive, mostly due to the very faint light from below, which seemed to silently call to him, like a beacon in the dark.

'Better than just sitting around I suppose.' I mused, before beginning the arduous task of turning my body towards it. For some reason nothing seemed to be working right, almost as if my muscles had the consistency of jello, but eventually I managed to get myself pointed straight down towards the light.

 _ **Play - Bird that carries you across a disproportionately small gap.**_

At that moment, the air was forced from my lungs as a tremendous pressure suddenly bore down on me from all directions, shoving me face first towards the light, my eyes snapping shut instinctively just before my face collided with something hard yet malleable that seemed to stretch over my head, like I was trying to force my way into a sweater two sizes two small.

After several uncomfortably claustrophobic seconds I suddenly found myself gasping in lungfuls of fresh air, the crushing pressure vanishing as I was expelled from the comforting warmth into open air, the sharp, clinical chill cutting through my confused thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

'Christ! Turn it down a notch!' I swore, glaring up at the light overhead as my vision swam in and out of focus, only literally spit as the light was obscured by a massive head, most of the blurry features aside for the eyes hidden behind a hospital-issue face-mask and hair-net.

"I-I-It's a boy!" a nervous yet strangely pleased voice stammered from the apparition, a pair of large, yet gentle hands holding me up in the air for all to see "A b-b-big, strong healthy b-b-b-boy!"

'No s-s-s-shit sherlock!' I tried to snark, but to my growing irritation my mouth had decided to follow the same treasonous example as my limbs and refuse to work properly, my irritation slowly giving way to confusion as I tried to take in my surroundings. By this point I was slowly beginning to put all the pieces together, but my mind just refused to process the sheer absurdity of my situation.

'Wait…don't tell me…!'

A sudden sharp pain near my stomach cut off all thoughts and drew my attention just in time to see a pair of bloody tongs remove what looked like a bloody sausage rope while a pair of equally bloody gloved hands tied the severed end, which was connected to my stomach, into a knot.

"C'mon now little f-f-f-fella,' the figure stammered cheerfully as she proceeded to wipe me down with warm water to remove any remaining blood or fluid "let's get you c-c-c-cleaned up.'

'Oh you gotta be kidding me…' I stammered, a growing sense of dread and disbelief washing over me as she wrapped me in a warm towel and picked me up 'Don't tell me…!'

"C-C-C-congratulations Sir!" the woman stuttered, a sense of vertigo washing over me as I was seemingly passed from one set of hands to another, decidedly stronger and less gentle set of arms. Looking up in wonderment, I found myself gazing up at yet another blurry face, though unlike the Doctor, I had the strangest feeling that this guy was silently judging me, even though the only defining feature I could make out was his admittedly badass moustache.

"Why isn't he crying, Doctor?" Pornstache demanded, his cold tone sending shivers of apprehension down my spine as he continued to stare down at me judgingly "Is there anything wrong with him?"

"I…I d-d-d-don't think s-s-s-so s-s-s-sir…" the doctor stammered, clearly just as put out by his frigid tone as I was, perhaps even more so "He seems to be breathing easily enough…I'd need to run some tests but with the other on the way…"

"Leave it for now then," Pornstache commanded, his tone dismissive even as a woman's frantic breathing rose in pitch in the background "Just focus on getting my wife through this. We'll run a diagnostic later along with his twin."

"Y-Y-Yes sir!" the doctor stammered, the sound of retreating feet heralding her departure while Pornstache turned on his heel, another wave of vertigo washing over me as I was all but shoved into yet another set of arms, this pair clad in what appeared to be metal.

"Take him to the infirmary and stand guard there." Pornstache commanded, his frigid tone brooking no argument as the person holding me stiffened "I'm holding you personally responsible for my Son's safety soldier. If anything happens to him before my wife has a chance to hold him in her arms…"

"Sir!" the figure holding me acknowledged, snapping to attention awkwardly with me in his arms before turning on his heel, and marching off, pausing only after he'd left the room we'd exited well behind to release an exasperated sigh "Oum Dammit, I didn't sign up for this to play nanny…" he glanced down at me, his features hidden behind a visor "Still…awfully quite lil tyke ain't ya?"

Even if I could have answered him I doubt I would have, as my attention was currently focussed on the image reflected in his visor, an image that, sadly, did not include myself as I was, but rather a small wrapped bundle with a baby's bald head peeking out the top.

 _ **'Gaster you Mother F-!'**_

 _ **Play-Unnecessary Tension**_

A sudden absence of noise cut me off, my eyes widening as the entire building shook, the soldier carrying me crying out in alarm as he stumbled against a wall. "What the hell was that?!" he demanded, tucking me awkwardly into the crook of his arm as he reached for his helmet "Security! What's your status!?".

Whatever he heard on the end of the line mustn't have been particularly pleasant, as he let out a string of impressive curses towards 'Damned Animals' before tucking me under his arm like a football and racing down the hall, his free hand holding a pistol. "Gotta barricade ourselves in the infirmary." He muttered, thumping what sounded like an access panel to open the door at the end of the hall "Gotta hold out till the security drones activate-!"

His words trailed off with a choke and I once again felt a wave of vertigo wash over me as we suddenly found ourselves flying backwards through the air, the soldier's back slamming into the wall opposite the infirmary door while I tumbled into his lap and onto the floor, unable to do anything but look up in alarm at the business end of the spear sticking out of his chest. "Holy Shit! Undyne what the fuck?!" a startled teenaged voice shrieked in the distance, one of many if the cries of alarm were any indication.

"Had to be done." A gruff, female voice shot back calmly, possibly the owner of the spear if her tone was any indication "He would've called for reinforcements and then we'd be really screwed."

"We were screwed the moment we set off the damn bomb!" the panicked teen from before pointed out "I told you we should've just ditched this place with the others but you just had to raid the infirmary!"

"We need medical supplies." The female, Undyne I'm assuming, snapped back "Some of us more than others, so quit your bitching and stuff those damn pants of yours with anything you can get your hands on!"

"Should've stayed at Monty Burger…" the distressed figure muttered under his breath as he moved away, most likely returning to whatever he was doing before the guard burst in "Better hourly wages my ass…never signed up for this shit…"

"Wuss." The woman called Undyne scoffed, the sound of footsteps drawing nearer before I found myself looking up at a blurry figure standing over the guard's corpse, one booted foot coming up to his chest as she grabbed the haft of her spear to yank it out of his chest before crouching down to pick up his pistol. "Of course it's fucking locked…" she swore, tossing the weapon aside with a disgusted hiss after looking it over briefly "Freaking paranoid Atlesian warmongers…hmm?"

The next thing I knew I was being picked up off the ground with surprising gentleness only to find myself gazing into a blurry face framed by shocking red hair, one eye heavily covered by bloody bandages. "Well hey there little guy." The redhead greeted with Undyne's voice, her tone torn between surprise and amusement as she levelled a cocky smirk at me, her mouth filled with unnervingly sharp teeth "Didn't know it was take your kid to work day."

"Undyne! We gotta jet!" the teen from earlier called out, several blurry figure stumbling out of the infirmary carrying what looked like duffel bags, no doubt filled with pilfered medical supplies "The security team will be breathing down our necks any second!"

"Got it, let's move." Undyne snapped, rising to her feet, spear in hand, before shoving me roughly into another set of arms "Here, hold this till we get out. I can't fight and hold him at the same time."

"What the-where'd the kid come from?" the whiny teen wondered, only to yelp as Undyne blocked a bullet aimed at his head with her spear before racing down the hall "Aw dammit I knew this would happen!"

I'd have happily shared my thoughts on the matter, but my mind had finally reached its threshold for bullshit and had decided that since none of this could possibly be real I'd be better off trying to process it while unconscious, though I wonder what it says about my state of mind that, rather than my rebirth, the guard's murder or the ensuing cluster fuck as my kidnappers fought their way to freedom, it was the cat-ears sticking out of the teen's head that made my brain go 'fuck it'.

* * *

And that's chapter 1 out of the way.

Bit of a slow start but as you can see, I'm trying to mix the worlds a bit.

Wanted to do Gaster's words in Wingdings but it won't let me for some reason.

1\. Yes, the 'Self Insert' is essentially Sans, but NO. He isn't going to be a skeleton.

2\. Yes, that was indeed Undyne & Burgerpants, or rather, their Remnant counterparts.

3\. until the official plot starts, expect things to progress slowly, with time-skips between chapters.


	3. Chapter 2: Growing Pains

Ok, waters tested, not much hate mail...let's try wading a bit deeper.

I own two things, Jack & Shit, Jack moved out a while ago and shit is not a word I care to associate with RWBY or Undertale.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Growing Pains.**

It's been three years since the surprisingly exciting events of my reincarnation, and I'm sorry to say I was still coming to terms with my new situation, a fact I attributed more to retaining my past memories and personality than anything else. After all, there's a marked difference to a newborn babe and a grown ass man, otaku or not, finding themselves in unfamiliar territory.

Hell for Otaku this was a highly common experience, in fiction anyway, and at the very least I wasn't saddled with some tsundere bitch trying to make me her slave or being made into the pawn of some petulant God.

I honestly don't know which fate would be worse but I'm going to err towards the former because at least humans have a reason for being flawed while Gods are simply assholes because in all honesty who the hell could reprimand them except a bigger, tougher, more assholish God?

So yeah, new lease on life with the memories of the old to fall back on. Believe me when I tell you that made potty training SO much easier the second time around.

What? Don't look at me like that, I had a very weak bladder as a kid and my parents never considered I could be lactose intolerant until I underwent a work-related health check-up. Needless to say they could've saved themselves a mint if they'd simply cut back on the moo-juice while I was in diapers.

Which leads me to the first and arguably the more prevalent issue that arose in my new lease on life; namely that I clearly hadn't reincarnated anywhere on good ol' Mother Earth.

At first I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, since even if I couldn't see clearly everyone still spoke English. It was only after I was 'kidnapped' that I began to realise not everything was as kosher as it initially appeared. Which ties into the second issue that arose, namely the unfortunate bastards blessed with the privilege of being my 'new' family.

I say unfortunate not only because they were stuck on diaper duty until I convinced them I was potty trained, but because of the circumstances behind our coming together. On the one hand, the fact they flat-out kidnapped me had me wary of their intentions, but as time went on and they proved to be nothing but kind, I instead felt gratitude to them, as it would've been decidedly more awkward if I'd remained with my 'biological' family considering I retained my memories of my original one.

To this day I actively try not to consider the possibility that, in my bid to live, I forced Gaster to take the life of an actual child so that I could be reborn. A part of me wondered if Yoko Kurama had to deal with this kind of existential crisis when he possessed the unborn foetus of Minamino Shiori to reincarnate as her 'son' Shuichi. If so then he certainly handled it a lot better than I was, though the fact he was originally a Demon, and thus possessed of looser morals prior to reincarnation, most likely made it easier on him.

I suppose I should go into more details huh? Well for starters, not long after their escape from wherever the hell we were originally, my kidnappers began to go their separate ways, some breaking off to strike out on their own while others stuck around due to safety in numbers until they found a decent town or city to move into. Eventually, the only ones left were the whiny teen who kept going on about 'Monty Burger' and our one-eyed, redheaded leader, the same chick you'll recall who one-shot the guard with a spear before essentially leading the escapees to freedom and just so happened to share the name of the Undying Captain of Asgore's Royal Guard.

At first I passed it off as a coincidence, I mean, just because she had red hair, an eyepatch and could hurl a javelin through a tree didn't mean she was the same person. But as time passed it became clear to me that not only did she bear a remarkable resemblance to Undyne, appearing mostly human save for her sharp teeth and the gills on the side of her neck, her personality was also a dead-ringer for the Guard-Captain's, including her hair-trigger temper and sense of humour.

So needless to say, despite knowing full well I'd essentially been kidnapped by what could only loosely be called a terrorist cell, the sheer fact said cell was being led by freaking Undyne The Undying had me literally fangasming...or it would if I were old enough for my nether regions to do anything besides dye the inside of my diapers a rich, pungent brown.

Fortunately, despite their fugitive status the group had been nothing but kind to me during our time on the run, each taking turns to look after me in their own way, whether it be doting encouragement from the females, supreme awkwardness from the males, or energetic overbearance from Undyne, who proved to be just as passionate in everything she did and personally invested in my well-being to the point of obsession, spending virtually every waking moment she wasn't fighting or sparring simply interacting with me, often conscripting others to record my every action during the times she couldn't.

I'll touch more on that later, but for now let's get back on track and focus on how I determined that I hadn't reincarnated anywhere on Earth. Y'know, aside from the fact my kidnappers all possessed some animal traits like extra limbs or odd quirks like lifting their leg whenever they needed to pee.

Y'see, as I mentioned before, our little cell had eventually shrank until the only ones left included Undyne, myself and the whiny teen who always seemed to wind up on diaper duty, since that was the one part of me Undyne refused to interact with. For the longest time we essentially drifted from place to place, Undyne working as a mercenary, more often than not resulting in us having to flee whatever settlement we arrived at due to causing a scene.

It was fun while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end, which it very nearly did when we wound up getting caught in this huge-ass blizzard en-route to the next town and I ended up coming down with a terrible fever that sent Undyne into straight-up panic mode, rushing out into the blizzard in an attempt to mug the first person she could find to earn enough to pay for a doctor.

Unfortunately for her, the very first person she assaulted turned out to be a certified badass who ate bandits for breakfast. Fortunately for me, the guy decided not to press charges or deal with Undyne like he normally would, and instead led us into town, where he hooked us up with shelter and even paid for the doctor that saved my life.

Naturally, he didn't do so out of the goodness of his heart. He fully expected Undyne to pay him back, though thankfully not in 'that' way. You see, while he'd defeated her soundly during their fight, he acknowledged that she was pretty strong for someone self-taught. Add to that the fact she'd only attacked him out of concern for me and he figured it'd be a waste to let her talent rot in a cell.

All it took to cement the deal was pointing out that life on the lamb was no-way to raise a child and Undyne was hooked. Within a matter of days she'd joined the Town Guard and was essentially running the show by the end of the year, earning the rank of Captain and the title of Freelance Huntress.

Huntress, a title given to elite warriors who were specially trained to combat the Creatures of Grimm, soulless monsters that existed solely to hunt down and kill anything with soul and were attracted to negative emotions like flies to shit.

So yeah, I'd reincarnated on Remnant of all places. In all honesty when I finally figured that bit of information out I was torn between squealing like a fan girl and shitting my pants in terror.

See, even putting aside what I remembered about the plot, and boy that was a Wikipedia article in and of itself, the World of Remnant isn't a very nice place to live even at the best of times. Sure it has all the 'fantasy' and 'magic' that we see in the show, but there's also the racism and discrimination against Faunus, which I quickly realised included the likes of Undyne, and the ever-present threat of the Grimm, whose actions were not as predictable as one would like.

Frontier towns and settlements were always being set up outside the Central Cities only to fail and vanish into the wilderness whenever the Grimm paid them the slightest bit of attention. My hometown resided on an Island outside the Kingdom of Vale, a rural little place consisting of several houses and farms scattered around a deceptively tranquil landscape of thick forests and rolling hills. While we had electricity there was nothing more advanced than a television or radio, hell most of the farming was still done using horse-drawn tools and tractors.

Normally such a place would've been easy pickings for the Grimm, and indeed, there were often reports of Beowolves prowling in the woods so people knew better than to wander there aimlessly. The only reason the town wasn't constantly overrun by the damned things was because the Town Watch, comprised of former Huntsmen and Freelancers, were possessed of an almost maddening dedication to their job. There was also the fact that Undyne was just as much a badass in this world as she was in-game, but I feel it would be biased to include that considering our relation.

Speaking of which, as badass as she could be, there was one downside to being Undyne's 'son', namely that she placed very high expectations on me. Since settling down, from the moment I could walk again Undyne had taken it upon herself to begin my training as preparation for joining Signal with a fanatical zeal.

Don't get me wrong, while the idea of becoming a Huntsman might have seemed appealing, I had never been one to seek out conflict growing up. Factor in what I'd seen the Grimm do during the Season 3 finale and you could understand why I was so hesitant to pick up a sword. Sadly, as far as Undyne was concerned, I had no say in the matter. If it weren't for Grillby acting as the voice of reason, and the fact her job took up most of her time, I'd probably have been hospitalised.

Which brings me to one of the few 'male role models' in my admittedly short new life, the man who offered us shelter and a home after I recovered so that I could have some semblance of a normal life. Back in Undertale, Grillby was a minor background character, a humanoid fire monster who was the owner and proprietor of Sans' favourite haunt. Here he was simply a tall guy in glasses and a bartender uniform whose hair and beard happened to be a fiery red. As you might have guessed from his attire, much like his Undertale counterpart he was the owner and proprietor of the local tavern which also doubled as the home of my mismatched family.

Another thing this world's version of Grillby has in common with his in-game counterpart was how taciturn he could be. Seriously, the man never spoke if he could avoid it, hell I doubt I ever heard him say more than a word at a time, but he still somehow managed to make his point clear. The only times I ever heard him speak were whenever he cautioned Undyne about her language, called for closing hours or when he saw his daughter, Ember, off to school.

Yeah, turn out 'Fuku' really is Grillby's kid, at least in this messed up reality anyway, though much like dear-old dad she's just a girl with bright green hair here rather than a green fire monster-girl. She's a nice enough kid, but like most girls her age while she wasn't above playing with the baby in her free moments she'd much rather be out with her friends and was too young to even consider being asked to babysit just yet.

Not that Grillby ever complained mind you, the man would simply roll up his sleeves every morning after seeing the ladies out before setting about preparing for the day with the patience of a saint, all while keeping an eye on yours truly till Undyne came back from work slaughtering Grimm or instilling the fear of god into new recruits, and I spent most of that time either watching Grillby go about his job or reading in the room I shared with Undyne upstairs.

Some might have considered this boring but I preferred to think of it as not tempting fate. Besides, I'd always been something of a bookworm, and being reborn into a new world gave me the opportunity to expose myself to a treasure trove of new tales, some which bore a startling similarity to ones from our world.

* * *

 _ **Post 4 Seasons...**_

'Should've just stayed in your hut old man…' I sighed, setting aside the tale of the Four Seasons with a grimace, knowing all too well how that particular story would end. I wasn't so foolish as to think I could do something to alter the course of events, for one thing I had no idea if Amber was even the current Fall Maiden or when Cinder would make a move against her. Supposedly it was the same day Adam & Blake raided the train during the Black Trailer, but that simply meant it was months before Blake showed up at Beacon.

And even if I did possess irrefutable evidence to back up my claims, just what was I supposed to do? Write a letter to Ozpin warning him of Cinder's plot? Assuming the Great & Powerful Ozpin did take it seriously and not just dismiss it as a prank, I had no intention of painting a target on my ass, which is what would happen if I revealed my knowledge of the Maidens' existence to the Ozluminati.

'I just got settled into my new lease on life…no need to go rocking the boat.'

And with that thought I held up my hand, a blue glow surrounding my palm as I glared at the nearby book-case, a single volume trembling briefly on the shelf before launching itself through the air, beaning me right between the eyes "MOTHERFUCKER!"

 **You seem to be adapting rather well**

"Don't you ever knock?" I snapped, glaring at the shadowy corner of the room where a by now familiar white skull leered back at me "Seriously, one of these days you're gonna give me a heart attack."

 **My apologies, but as you know, I can hardly interact with anything as I am now.**

"Yeah I guess that would make knocking a little difficult." I conceded, rubbing the spot where the edge of the book had left a bruise tenderly "And yeah I'm getting used to this, slowly but surely."

Gaster was another reason that I didn't go insane with boredom growing up, the disembodied scientist having seemingly taken it upon himself to watch over me like a twisted guardian angel, or that one version of Slenderman that actually likes children as something other than a source of protein and Chris Hansen bait.

The first time he'd shown up I'd been sitting quietly in the room I shared with Undyne, reading at the desk by the window when I happened to see her training in the back yard, spinning her spear around like it was an extension of her body, which in all honesty it probably was considering her semblance allowed her to, you guessed it, manipulate water.

Needless to say I got a little too-into watching her thrash her sparring partner to the point I over-tipped the chair and would've likely cracked my fool head open if I hadn't somehow managed to stop mid-fall, my body outlined in ethereal blue flame, like a will-o-the-wisp, Gaster's leering skull looming over me in concern.

Since then he'd taken to popping in whenever he was certain we wouldn't be disturbed to coach me in the use of my power, which was yet another reason to not go to Ozpin with my knowledge of future events.

The reason for this was simplicity in and of itself. Since Grillby had flat-out refused to allow Undyne to unlock my Aura until I was older, the typical age being ten for all hunter aspirants, it was clear this wasn't an early manifestation of my Semblance at work, which meant there was only one other thing it could be, and I had no intention of finding out how the 'Great and Powerful Oz' and his 'Inner Circle' would react to someone other than the Maidens possessing the ability to use Magic.

Knowing Ironwood, he'd probably dig into my past and use it as leverage to have me taken into 'protective custody', which most likely would've involved dissection, or at the very least a breeding program to produce magic-capable Atlesian Specialists. So I was quite content to simply keep my little secret to myself, only practicing when I was absolutely certain nobody, Undyne in particular, could possibly stumble across me moving things with my mind.

Heck, I even made it into something of a game, using my power to create distractions whenever I wanted to sneak past people without drawing undue attention to myself.

 **Wouldn't you rather spend the day outside? It's quite lovely out today**

"I'll pass thanks." I countered, using telekinesis to return the finished books to their place at the top of the bookshelf with a wave of my free hand, the other devoted entirely to holding the book I was currently reading to my face "I'd rather not get roped into Undyne's workout from hell again."

 **Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life, but there's more to it than reading books.**

"I know that Doc, trust me." I assured the spectre with a sigh. "I'm just not the sporty type, alright? Give me a good book and I'm golden."

 **I just think it's a waste that you're not trying to make any new friends since you arrived.**

"I have friends." I countered defensively, only to scowl at his quirked…eye-socket? How in the hell does he even do that? "I mean, there's you, Ember, Burger Pants."

Yeah, funny story, the whiny teenage Faunus who carried my infant arse during Undyne's raid on the hospital turned out to be this world's version of Burger Pants. To be fair he wasn't actually called that here, but since I never got round to asking his name and he happened to work at the local Monty-Burger his old moniker had just stuck.

 **I meant friends your own age.**

"I'm a borderline thirty-year-old in the body of a three-year old." I deadpanned, quirking a brow at the spectre's comment "Just how in the hell do you expect me to relate to a bunch of children? I HATE Children!"

No, seriously, I hate kids, particularly the ones that are too young to know any better yet somehow always manage to get underfoot. I don't know what kind of negative karma led to my reincarnating as one but needless to say it must have been a doozy.

 **You should at least make the attempt. Life is too short to remain cooped up inside a room.**

"I'm not about to go all recluse on you doc." I assured the spectre with a wry smirk "I just don't feel like drawing pictures in the sand or chasing butterflies when I could catch up on my reading." I quirked a brow at the spectre "Now did you just come here to lecture me, or are we gonna pick up where we left off?"

 **Very well, I've said my piece. Now then, where were we? Ah yes, as you recall, a Strong Soul resides in a Strong Mind and a Strong Body...**

As Gaster began to recite the lecture he began all our lessons with, I promptly sat down on the floor cross legged with my back to the door, a pile of books lying beside me just in case someone came along wondering what I was up to.

Ever since the aforementioned incident, Gaster had seemingly taken it upon himself to instruct me in how to control my magic, with particular emphasis on 'control', our first few lessons being dedicated to simply learning how to access my Magic.

Yeah, turns out even monsters need to learn how to use the stuff despite it coming easier to them than for humans. It's why monsters that were part of the 'Royal Guard' or the Boss Monsters, excluding the broken monstrosities that were Omega Flowey and either of Asriel's forms, were much tougher than, say, your standard Froggit.

According to Gaster there were two ways of using Magic, the most common was to access your own Mana reserves, but those with enough know-how could supplement this by tapping the ambient Mana from their surroundings or a suitable focus. Prior to the War with Humanity, the Monsters used both with varying degrees of proficiency but after being sealed beneath Mount Ebott the latter fell out of favour due to the Barrier absorbing all the ambient Mana and the subsequent decline in the ability of the general population led to an overall decrease in the level of magical skill.

Hell, apparently the Original Royal Guard that had existed prior to the Barrier going up had been entirely composed of pure, unadulterated bad-asses in the same weight class as Asgore and Toriel. Considering what most of the Guard, with the exception of Undyne's 'Undying' form, were like, that just went to show how much the Monsters must have suffered beneath the mountain.

Getting back on track, since I clearly wasn't a monster, genetically anyway, Gaster's first lessons had been entirely devoted to teaching me to access my Mana, which let me tell you was a LOT harder than simply waving a wand and chanting a few words in faux-latin. Don't believe me? Then let me ask you this: Where do you think magic exists in the body? The Heart? The Brain? The answer, surprisingly enough, turned out to be the Soul, which considering what I knew of how Magic worked on Remnant, kind of made sense.

Think about it: Amber likely wasn't born with the Fall Power, yet she fell into a coma after Cinder stole half of it. Factor in the fact that Ironwood's machine could have, theoretically, transferred the remainder of her powers to Pyrrha along with her Aura and it was simple to conclude that the reason she fell into a coma was because she'd lost half her soul in the process.

Getting back on track, in order for me to learn how to consciously use magic, I would either have to devote myself to months, if not years of self-reflection on the nature of my soul, which was a headache to even consider, or I could have another magically knowledgeable individual awaken my mana for me. Needless to say I lacked the patience for option A and Gaster's inability to interact with our world in a physical capacity made option B a decided impossibility so we had to go with option C, namely a combination of the two with Gaster guiding me every step of the way while I delved into my soul.

I wish I could tell you I gained some greater insight into myself during this time but the truth of the matter was it was boring as all fuck, just sitting on my arse for days on end trying to garner some reaction from the hovering image of a heart that symbolized my Soul.

Needless to say I failed; A lot. Either I would collapse from exhaustion only to find the sun had set hours ago or I'd be shocked out of my trance by someone, usually Undyne, shaking my shoulder either to drag me outside to 'get some fresh air' or to perform chores for the tavern. I kept at it however, with such a rare prize within my reach how could I do anything less?

And in the end my perseverance was rewarded after two months of repeated failure when I reached out for that hovering mental image for what felt like the umpteenth time and was rewarded for my diligence with a surge of ethereal blue flames, which thankfully didn't burn anything. Since that first success Gaster had moved on to increasing my overall control over my Mana, partially out of his perfectionist nature and partially because we honestly didn't know how to proceed with my training, as I was apparently incompatible with the traditional elemental spells.

To elaborate, while there were arguably as many varieties of 'Magic' as there were people, in the end they can all be aligned with a basic elements under three categories: Attack Magic, Healing Magic and Summoning Magic. For example, Toriel & Asgore's Fireballs were an Attack Type Magic of the Fire Element whereas Papyrus' & Sans' Bone Attacks were Summons tied to their unique nature as 'Undead' type Monsters.

While it was kind of disappointing to know I'd never be able to cast a Fireball or drop lightning on my opponents from a distance, Gaster had assured me that simply possessing the ability to use magic as a human being, and at such a young age, put me leagues ahead of most aspirants. As heartening as that sounded, it still rang hollow considering what I knew Amber and Cinder could pull off.

Still, nothing ventured nothing gained as they say, and so with Gaster guiding the way we turned our attention to mastering the one Magic I'd exhibited thus far, which oddly enough happened to be one of Sans' trademark in-game skills: Psychokinesis.

According to Gaster, this was a rare skill that few had the patience to master due to its deceptively simple nature. However, because it was so outwardly simple it could be used in a variety of ways, ranging from hurling items at the opponent to restraining them to prevent them from dodging a blow. In short, it was a skill that was only as limited as the user's imagination and magical reserves, with more powerful practitioners capable of reshaping the very landscape around them to their advantage or even crushing their enemies with a single gesture.

I'll admit, when I first learnt of just what could be done with psychokinesis I briefly entertained the notion of force-choking Cinder to keep her in place while I dropped an Atlesian Airship on her ala Star Killer. I quickly dismissed such thoughts, not only because the idea of outright challenging Cinder sent shivers down my spine but because there was no guarantee I'd be able to master the ability to the same level of proficiency Sans had and if I got it into my head early on that I was 'special' just because I shared his skills I'd become complacent and my development would stagnate.

As far as the world was concerned, I was a novice with beginner's luck who was dealt a good hand in regards to what skills I could use off the bat, so it would be arrogant to consider myself 'gifted' when I'd be better off focussing on improving my few skills by raising my control and increasing my overall mana reserves.

With this in mind, I promptly closed my eyes, concentrating on the flow of Mana within my body, matching my breathing to the pulsing of my heart until I could feel the Mana flowing smoothly. Holding up my hand before me, I focussed on the feeling of blood flowing through my arm to the limb, opening my eyes as the feeling concentrated in my palm to focus on the nearby stack of books I'd been reading earlier, which was enveloped in a light blue ethereal haze. Almost immediately the volumes began to tremble, like an unstable jenga stack on a shaky surface.

Another advantage to focussing on Psychokinesis was the fact that, unlike a wide variety of more traditional Magics, it didn't require a visual or audio cue, like chanting a spell or making a gesture, in order to activate. Sure using your hands could be used as a focussing tool to improve effectiveness, but all that was truly required was a clear image of what you wanted to do in your mind and enough concentration to avoid getting distracted.

Focussing my concentration, I raised my hand slightly and sure enough the volumes slowly began to rise off the floor, each enveloped in blue flames. Despite my apparent success I didn't lose my focus, knowing all-too-well that getting cocky at this stage would cost me my concentration and send them tumbling to the ground. Already several of the heavier books were already beginning to tremble, if I stopped supplying mana or lost my concentration for a second they'd drop to the floor like dead weights, most likely attracting unwanted attention in the process.

Thankfully Psychokinesis in and of itself didn't use up a lot of magic regardless of how many objects were levitated. The true problem with the technique was the level of concentration that went into maintaining it, especially if you wanted to do more than simply lift something off the ground. Put simply, it took more out of me mentally to levitate multiple books I could carry easily in my arms than it did to levitate a single barrel of cider that weighed more than I did.

This was the result of 2 months of daily training, and while it didn't seem all that impressive at first, Gaster had assured me that for a human just starting out it was an incredible achievement, and that if I kept up my training to improve my control and reserves I'd be able to lift multiple heavier objects at a time.

In all honesty, however, I wasn't in too much of a hurry, slow and steady wins the race and it wasn't like I was going to be directly involved in the events of the series.

* * *

 _ **Later that evening...**_

"Alright, good work today guys!" Undyne called out, grinning proudly at the new recruits as they lay sprawled out on the ground before her in varying states of exhaustion, she herself not even sweating despite having pushed herself just as hard "Be back here by tomorrow at 5am sharp, no excuses!"

"Still giving them hell I see." A voice snarked from the side-lines, drawing Undyne's attention to the tall man with greying black hair clad in a tattered cloak over a gray, long-tailed dress shirt and black dress pants leaning against the fence, his arms crossed before him confidently, and black dress shoes.

"Qrow." Undyne greeted, her tone welcoming though there was a hint of an edge to her smile as she glanced at the veteran huntsman turned Signal Instructor "Back from your trip already?"

"For the time being, yeah." Qrow admitted, pushing himself away from the wall to take a swig from his ever-present flask "Figured I'd stop by Grillby's for a drink when I heard you putting the fear of Oum in the new recruits. Gotta admit, I don't know if I should be impressed or annoyed at how effective you are."

"What you should be is scared." Undyne shot back as she waved at the departing recruits "I keep this up they said they'll give me a good word up at Signal." She smirked cockily at the man "Who knows? They might end up giving me your job."

"Go ahead, I hate kids." Qrow scoffed, smirking wryly as he screwed the top back onto his flask, the two of them falling into step beside one another as they made their way back to the tavern "Speaking of which, how's that rugrat of yours doing?"

"Same as ever." Undyne admitted, flagging down a beer from Grillby even as the barman placed a bottle of scotch and a shot glass in front of Qrow "Kid's bright as a button but just getting him to leave his room is a job in and of itself."

"So he's not the sporty type." Qrow scoffed, downing his first the shot with the ease of long practice before pouring himself a fresh one from the bottle "Nothing wrong with liking books."

"It's not just that." Undyne insisted, her expression troubled as she took a swig from her own bottle of beer, her one eye narrowed in a concerned frown "I mean he's always been a little odd. Ever since he was a baby he never made peep even when he was hungry or hurt."

"And you're complaining about that?" Qrow snarked, shaking his head in amusement "I know a few couples who'd pay a fortune for a good night's sleep till their kids are out of diapers." He took another shot "Besides, it's not like there's anything wrong with him, right? Doc said he was right as rain after he got over the flu."

Now there was an understatement if there ever was one, Undyne unable to help the smile that formed on her face as she recalled just how much trouble it took to keep the kid under wraps once he'd gotten better. Hell, one time they'd taken their eyes off him for a second only for him to completely disappear. They later found him crawling along the second floor of the tavern despite none of them having taken him up there.

This had been just one of many incidents that led Undyne to believe the kid was some sort of prodigy, which in turn led to her many, many attempts at beginning his Hunter Training early. While she'd eventualy learnt her lesson after Grillby pointed out how silly she was being, it hadn't diminished her desire to see the boy succeed.

"It's just…he gets this look sometimes." She admitted, her expression falling as she addressed the heart of the issue that was troubling her "I don't think he even knows he makes it, but whenever I see him sitting alone, reading a book or just staring out the window, he just looks so…lonely."

Undyne had seen that look plenty of times before over the course of her life. It was the look of a person who had purposefully distanced themselves in order to avoid being hurt. To see it on the face of a child not even four years old hurt her far worse than the time she'd lost her eye.

She'd hoped by following Grillby's advice and settling down she'd be able to give the kid the chance to develop normally, maybe even make a few friends. But in truth all it seemed to have accomplished was give him the tools he needed to wall himself away from the world.

He still interacted with people just fine, she couldn't deny that, but he lacked any of the natural curiosity or adventurous spirit she dimly recalled having as a child. He'd simply lounge about the Bar watching Grillby work or retreat to their room with a good book and wouldn't be seen till dinnertime.

"Huh…that is kinda weird." Qrow admitted, actually pausing in the midst of downing a shot for a few seconds before following through "Doesn't he have any friends to hang out with? Or did you scare 'em all away?"

"Laugh it up ya drunk." Undyne scoffed, flipping the man off with a glare before taking another swig from her beer "And no, aside from Ember I don't think he's spoken to anyone except me, Grillby or the bar patrons."

"That could be your problem there." Qrow noted, nodding his head as if he suddenly understood all of life's problems "You and the kid were always on the move so he never learnt to make friends. If that's the case, then all we gotta do is put him in a situation where he's bound to meet people and let him work things out from there."

"So basically put him in a sink or swim type situation?" Undyne mused, honestly torn about how to view such a thing. On the one hand she balked at the idea of putting the kid in danger, on the other hand this honestly seemed like the best way to get him out of his shell "What'd you have in mind?"

"My Niece's birthday is coming up next month." Qrow revealed, taking another swig directly from the bottle "Normally I'd turn up just after they've blown out the candles to drop off my gift and grab a slice for the road, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to bring the kid along for the ride."

"Xiao-Long's kid?" Undyne mused, a sly, unsettling smirk forming on her features as she recalled what little she knew about the daughter of Qrow's Brother-in-Law "I like her, she's got spunk."

"She gets it from her father." Qrow scoffed, setting aside the empty bottle, ignoring the pointed look he was getting from a disapproving Grillby "She's also twice as stubborn, so I can't think of anyone better to break the kid out of his shell."

At that very moment, two completely unrelated 3-year olds promptly sneezed at the exact same moment. One of them felt a shiver go down his spine, wondering if someone had stepped on his grave, while the other merely blinked in confusion before resuming her one-sided 'fight' with her father for the last of the freshly baked cookies while her mother laughed off to the side.

* * *

You'd think 1 near-death experience would've taught me to keep my mouth shut, but noooo...

Still can't figure out how to insert wingdings into this for Gaster. Also, those of you complaining about the timeskip, just what do you expect a newborn baby to get up to while on the run?

1\. For those of you wondering about FaUndyne: She's wearing her 'casual' outfit, leather jacket over her usual vest & pants with combat boots. Symbol: Spear over Green heart.

2\. No, Sans has not met Yang, or at the very least they've never been introduced to one another.


	4. Chapter 3: The Dragon's Daughter

As I mentioned before, the only things I own in relation to this tale are Jack & Shit, and Jack wisely took to the hills.

Now then, let's see how badly Qrow manages to fuck up Sans' life.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Dragon's Daughter.**

"OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-OhShit-!" I swore between clenched teeth as I raced through the trees, knees and elbows pumping like pistons as I scanned the path ahead of me for anything that might impede my flight.

As if to mock my efforts, the sounds of pursuit simply drew closer, the howls of my pursuer calling out for blood and vengeance sending a rush of adrenaline through my system as my limbs discovered they could, in fact, move quite a bit faster.

But in the end it mattered little. My pursuer was as relentless as they were furious, chasing me tirelessly, somehow able to find me no matter how much distance I put between us. Several times I thought I'd lost them only for a flash of burning gold & smouldering scarlet to pop up in the corner of my eye, the only warning I would ever get to avoid them lashing at my head by a hair.

At this point I doubted the words 'Mercy' or 'Give up' existed for them at all.

'Where's a damned save point when you need one?!' I swore, eyes flashing wildly as I clambered over a rock formation and fell into a ditch, slapping a hand over my mouth to cover my breath as I shoved my back against the wall, hiding beneath the overhang as the sounds of pursuit drew closer.

"WHERE ARE YOU?! my pursuer roared, hatred dripping from every syllable as they paced overhead. It looked like they hadn't seen my fall, but I can't keep running forever. As confident as I am in my new body's stamina my enemy knew these woods like the back of their hand. If I tried to make a run for it now, they'd be on my ass in seconds.

The only option that remained was for me to remain in hiding until they'd moved far enough away before making a break for it. If I could just make it back to civilization I'd be safe, even more so if I could make it back to the Inn.

And so despite my lungs beginning to hurt from the lack of air I kept my hands clamped over my mouth and held my breath as my pursuer growled overhead, their frustration apparent as I continued to evade their wrath.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER!" the beast snarled, shaking the very leaves in the trees with her anger "I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU PAY!"

'Would you fuck-off already?!' I swore, vision going hazy as I willed myself to keep still, my eyes darting around in their sockets only to lock onto a pinecone. Carefully, doing my best to avoid making a sound, I moved a hand from my mouth to aim at the pinecone, blocking out the sound of my heart hammering in my ears, focussing instead on the feeling of blood flowing down my arm to my palm.

As I focussed, the pinecone became outlined in an ethereal blue flame, like a will-o-the-wisp, and I could 'feel' it's presence in the palm of my hand. With a slight jerk, I snapped it off the branch and hurled it deeper into the woods.

"I GOT YOU NOW!" my pursuer snarled, leaping over my hiding place before tearing off deeper into the woods in search of my false trail. Even as her footsteps vanished into the distance I didn't relax my guard, though in order to abate the burning in my lungs I was forced to release my breath, swallowing a lungful of delicious air that tasted like damp and leaves.

Now some of you might be wondering how a self-proclaimed slacker like myself wound up running for his life through the woods, knowing that even in daylight they were infested with Oum only knew what manner of Grimm? You'd rightfully think going through a single painful death would be enough to teach me better, especially since there was no guarantee Gaster could save my ass again.

Well to summarise, let's just say that, after today I can fully relate with Glynda Goodwitch and Winter Schnee when it comes to a certain 'Dusty Old Qrow's' ability to fuck everything up, literally and figuratively.

To elaborate? Well it all started a few hours ago…

* * *

 _ **Que flashback visualisation effect...**_

It was a beautiful day outside.

Birds were singing. Flowers were blooming.

On days like this, the kids of Patch would commonly be outside running around, playing games, getting into trouble without a care in the world, enjoying their youth the way only kids can.

Of course, it goes without saying that by 'commonly' I meant for every kid except me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I became a couch potato, hell I don't think it would be physically possible to considering I lived under the same roof as Undyne, who would drag my ass outside to get some fresh air at least once a day.

And I'll freely admit it was kind of cool to be able to do all the extracurricular Physical shit they used to make us do as kids without fear of injury or humiliation. Seriously, you never realise how satisfying a simple forward roll can be until you can't do it anymore due to being too heavy and/or inflexible to pull it off without injury and public humiliation.

No, the reason I just couldn't bring myself to frolic like a child was because I wasn't one where it mattered. While my body was young and fit my soul was that of an overweight, middle-aged, pessimistic salary-man. Give me a good book and you wouldn't see me for hours.

It didn't help that I'd never been the 'sporty' type as a kid. The few times I ever went outside as a child my mother had to make sure I hadn't smuggled a comic or something so I'd interact with the other kids.

For the life of me I can't recall how I felt about her meddling back then, but looking back with the knowledge I have now I can't help but wish she'd tried a little harder. It certainly would've made it easier for me to connect with my peers, both in my past life and now.

You see, unlike big cities like Vale, Patch was about as rural as you could get without sacrificing modern conveniences like electricity and indoor plumbing. This meant there weren't a lot of houses with 'video games' or the like, hell according to Ember her dad only recently installed a television at Grillby's because watching the tournaments on screen was better than hearing it on the radio.

You heard right, Tournaments, as in Fighting Tournaments where both potential, up-and-coming and veteran Huntsmen and Huntresses alike came together to beat the living shite out of each other on pay-per-view for the cheers of the crowd and the audiences watching at home. I have to admit the first time I saw a match I'd found myself a little off-put by its similarity to watching gladiators fight to the death. I soon got over it after Undyne commented on how the 'safety systems' took all the 'fun' out of the duels and was soon enough cheering along with the crowd.

Getting back on track, as I had previously stated, while many of my peers in the younger generation quickly became enthused with the prospect of becoming Huntsmen after watching the fights, I had no such desire, knowing all too well from the show just how dangerous such a lifestyle could be. There was a reason that both Humanity and Faunus-kind chose to hide behind their walls, unable to extend their borders despite the many, many innovations and advancements in Dust Technology: The Grimm were simply too numerous, too relentless, and too unpredictable to face outright.

It really put things into perspective really. Back on earth, humanity had grown to the point where our only natural enemy was one another, so we turned on ourselves for the silliest reasons, from differences of opinion to even something as petty as the colour of our skin. It made me wonder if such prejudice would remain if we possessed a natural predator like the Grimm.

But getting back on track, as mentioned before, I had no interest in becoming a Huntsman and that made me 'different' to my peers. And let me tell you, having found myself in that position twice now, I can confirm there is nothing crueller than a group of children faced with someone whose mind-set differed from their own.

At first it had started as childish ribbing, the kind adults laugh off as 'kids-being-kids' but more often than not can lead to someone running crying to their mommy with a black eye if left unchecked, which it almost did when it became clear I could care less for their insults.

What? Don't give me that look. You didn't really think I was going to let the words of a few kids barely out of diapers get to me, did you? Please, even if I didn't have experience dealing with assholes you don't land a job in Human Resources without learning to keep your cool and run damage control. Compared to some of the shit I had to resolve in my past life, putting up with playground bullies was Child's Play, pun most certainly intended.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten that kids tended to be stubborn, and didn't particularly appreciate being ignored, so by when insults failed to get a rise out of me they attempted to confront me directly. The key word being 'attempted'. I don't mean to paint myself off as the kind of guy who goes around beating up kids to feel big about himself but I wasn't the type to take a punch for no goddamn reason, especially not from some snot-nosed brat with less sense than the U.S Mint.

With that in mind I took steps to limit my interaction with my peers without making it seem like I was running from them. If any of them tried to start anything a subtle use of psychokinesis was enough to send them sprawling in the dirt or otherwise divert their attention, which suited me just fine, as the less I interacted with the kids now, the less chance of me getting dragged into the events of the story.

So you can probably imagine my confusion when Undyne told me out of the blue that I'd been invited to a birthday party and that someone would be coming to pick me up around noon. After all, it wasn't as if I'd gone out of my way to befriend anyone, hell with the exception of a few regulars I never bothered to learn anyone's name outside of Grillby's. Add my self-imposed exile and it was highly unlikely any of the kids knew me as anything other than 'weirdo' or 'bookworm', among other things.

Still, while I've never been one for parties, especially not when kids are involved, there was nothing I could really do about it. If I were an adult I could come up with various excuses to get out of going but as a kid there was nothing I could say that wouldn't draw unwanted attention, as recluse or not there wasn't a kid alive or dead that would turn down free cake and candy.

And so I found myself waiting for my escort in the bar, idly debating whether or not I could excuse myself due to not having a present when one of our regulars sauntered in like he owned the place, dressed as ever in his usual tattered cloak over a long-tailed dress shirt & black dress pants.

"Hey Grillbz, how's things?" Qrow greeted, waving at the bartender, who returned the greeting with a casual shrug, giving nothing away as he wiped down a pint mug, save to glance to the clock pointedly "Yeah, I know, kinda early even for me." The Huntsman chuckled, thumbing in my direction "Relax, I'm just here to pick up the kid, I'll never hear the end of it if I show up reeking of booze this early."

"I have a name." I pointed out, a little too petulantly for my liking, but then I was still coming to terms with who my escort was and what the implications meant for me & what I considered canon.

While he looked a little younger than he did during his debut in Season 3, his hair being wholly black instead of streaked with grey and his chin devoid of stubble, it was clear to anyone that this was Qrow Branwen of Team STRQ, Yang's Maternal Uncle and role model to Ruby.

Admittedly this wasn't the first time I'd seen the man. Hell, living above a tavern it was almost impossible not to have run into him at some point, but Qrow had a personal interest in checking up on Undyne and I, having been the one to guide us to the tavern &even land Undyne her job after essentially handing her ass to her when she tried to mug him.

It was a safe bet that if Qrow hadn't been returning from a mission at that exact moment I probably would've died before Undyne managed to track down a doctor, so it wasn't too far-fetched to say I owed my continued existence to the Drunk just as much as I did Gaster.

That didn't change the fact that the guy could be an absolute dick when he chose, especially if he'd been drinking, which was pretty much 24/7. Seriously, I've lost count of the times Grillby had to step in to keep the other patrons from fighting the man, both to prevent damage to the bar and keep them from embarrassing themselves.

After all, there was a reason Cinder & her back-up dancers chose to flee when faced with Qrow despite outnumbering him three-to-one and having stolen half the Power of Fall. While his status as a philandering drunk was well-known, none could deny that Qrow Branwen was one of the most dangerous Veteran Hunters still on active duty, and unlike the idealists that tended to sign up these days, Qrow had seen enough shit to know better than to fight clean.

There was also the matter of him being part of Ozpin's unofficial 'Inner Circle'. While never openly acknowledged, it was a clear the drunk served as Ozpin's left hand, the one who did all the 'dirty jobs', out of sight of the public, whether it involved tracking down Amber's attackers or 'eliminating' rogue elements before they became a threat.

So with all that said and done, you can probably imagine my trepidation that such a dangerous man was taking a vested interest in my life. While I was absolutely certain I hadn't done anything to catch his interest, his mere presence carried with it the threat of getting caught up in the events of The Plot.

"Right…Sans wasn't it?" Qrow recalled, turning to regard me with a wry smile "Undyne told me you were a mouthy little runt. Good to see you out of your room for once, figured I'd have to drag you outta there kicking and screaming."

"Undyne locked me out before she went to work this morning." I admitted with a deadpan expression, earning a sigh from Grillby and a bark of laughter from Qrow "She won't be back till late either so it was either wait at the bar or go outside."

"Well, I can't say I disagree with your choice myself." Qrow chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smirk even as Grillby rolled his eyes in exasperation "Didn't feel like spending the afternoon hunting you down."

"Yeah, about the whole party thing," I began, taking a breath to steady myself, suppressing the urge to shiver at the thought of Qrow Branwen hunting me for any reason, I'd seen what he could do with that Scythe-Sword of his "You think we could not and say we did? I mean I didn't even get a card."

"Relax, I got you covered." Qrow chuckled, pulling an envelope from somewhere beneath his cloak and tossing it to me with a flick of his wrist "Even put some Birthday money in there so you're set for gifts too."

"You didn't have to do that…" I protested, torn between shock that he'd go so far to help some kid he wasn't even related to and trepidation, as now I didn't have an excuse to skip the party, and given the lengths he was going it was all-too clear just whose party I was going to.

"Eh, call it an investment." Qrow shrugged, a wry smirk on his face "I figure you can pay me back whenever you earn your first pay-cheque. I won't charge interest either so don't worry about paying it back in a hurry."

'Who the hell says that to a kid?' I couldn't help but wonder, sighing in exasperation as Qrow fended off a glare from a disapproving Grillby before hopping off the barstool, allowing the older man to escort me out of the Inn with a firm pat on the shoulder.

* * *

 ** _One stroll through the woods later..._**

I'll freely admit the first time I laid eyes on Ruby & Yang's home I was torn between fighting the urge to squee like a fanboy and my ever growing sense of dread, which was only understandable given the quaint little cottage lay a considerable distance outside the relative safety of Patch's walls, so far in fact that you couldn't even see the village through the Grimm infested woodlands.

Normally I'd question the sanity of anyone who considered a forest infested with monsters the ideal spot to raise a family, were it not for the fact that not only were the former members of Team STRQ Top-Class Hunters, arguably 'Beacon's Best' if Qrow's words were to be believed, it was common knowledge that Patch organised Hunting Parties every week or so to cull the local Grimm Population.

Despite knowing all of this and being accompanied by Qrow, who faults aside was a certified bad ass, I couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. After all, while there was no doubting his Badassery, Qrow's track record when it came to saving people wasn't the best, and unlike the ones he did save I didn't have the comfort of plot-armour.

Sure I had my magic to fall back on if push came to shove, but bereft of any form of combat experience I held no delusions as to the outcome of a fight between a child armed only with a fledgling grasp of psychokinesis and a pack of Beowolves or a single Ursa and you didn't need to be genius or watch nature documentaries to know that being eaten alive wasn't particularly pleasant.

And that was with regular animals that just wanted to survive or defend their territory/offspring and bore no particular hatred toward Mankind. The creatures of Grimm, on the other hand, were mind-fuckingly dedicated to wiping out Humanity & Faunus-kind, and while little else was known about them aside from their ties to Salem, the sheer depths the woman was willing to sink to achieve her goals made it all too clear being devoured by a Grimm would be a uniquely agonizing experience.

It was funny in way. After all my hard work trying to avoid canon I now found myself gazing down the barrel, each despairing step bringing me that much closer to being entangled in The Plot. Before I could sink further into despair, however, a sudden flash of white out the corner of my eyes snapped me out of my thoughts, my body tensing as I instinctively gasped, only to relax at the sight of Gaster's skull leering out at me from the shadows provided by the treeline.

"Easy there, Snowflake." Qrow assured me, the first time he'd spoken since we'd left the bar actually, the Huntsman reaching down to ruffle my hair mockingly "Undyne and her buddies already came through these parts not too long ago, and even if they did miss a few, you're in good hands with me."

I wisely chose not to comment on where I'd seen him put those hands and instead pretended to ignore the man, waiting for him to step forward and hammer on the door before covertly nodding my thanks to Gaster, the displaced scientist's eerie smile widening slightly before fading from sight, taking the majority of my earlier discomfort with him.

Not that I harboured any delusions of his ability to protect me from harm mind you, as I knew all too well just how limited his ability to interact with the world at large was. Regardless, it was still comforting to know I had a friend nearby.

"Hey Tai." Qrow greeted as his brother-in law finally opened the door, his cocky smirk widening as the blonde huntsman's annoyed scowl gave way to a look of surprise at the sight of him "Miss me?"

"Qrow! You're…Early!" Taiyang stammered, gaping at his former teammate in abject disbelief that Qrow might have taken umbrage with had he not earned his reputation for being fashionably late to everything from parties to missions and disciplinary hearings "And sober too, as I live and breathe!"

"About as sober as I ever get." Qrow admitted, taking a quick swig from his hip flask, much to the blonde's disapproving glare "Relax, it's not the strong stuff. Summer told me she'd have my guts for garters if I showed up reeking of booze around 'impressionable young minds'."

"Yes, well, thanks for making the effort." Taiyang offered, smiling gratefully at his brother in law even as the sound of childish shrieks and giggles echoed from inside "So you coming in or you just wanna drop off your present and grab a slice?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't considering the latter," Qrow admitted with an annoyed grunt, grimacing open at the noise coming from behind the larger man, a sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed with "but the fact is I'm gotta stick around for a bit."

Taiyang quirked a brow, no doubt wondering just what on Remnant the man was talking about until Qrow reached behind him and pulled me into view, the Blonde Brawler blinking down at me in surprise "Isn't that Undyne's kid?"

"Yup, good ol' Snowflake." Qrow smirked, ignoring, the glare I sent his way for the nickname "See, Undyne thinks the kid doesn't have enough friends his age, so I, being the kind-hearted responsible adult that I am." He didn't even pause when Taiyang and I scoffed "volunteered to bring him along."

"How you ever landed a teaching job I'll never know." Taiyang muttered, only half kidding, as it was a well-documented fact that while Qrow hated kids, he hated seeing them hurt even more "Well come on in…Sans wasn't it?" he smiled at the youth encouragingly as he held out his hand "Nice to meet you Sans, I'm Taiyang Xiao-Long."

"The Motherfucker?" I asked innocently, keeping my features straight even as my comment earned a spit-take from Qrow that decorated the wall with booze while Taiyang gaped at me in disbelief "Mr. Qrow talks about you all the time at Grillby's."

"Does he now?" Taiyang noted, and I swear I almost cracked then and there watching him struggle to keep the smile on his face while Qrow doubled over behind us, thumping his chest to clear it of the liquor he inhaled "Is that so?"

"Yes sir, he said you keep stealing all the hot mamas but never pass any his way…" I dialled it up a notch by biting my lip and widening my eyes in mock concern "You're...not gonna steal my mama, are you mister?"

"No son, I'm not." Taiyang assured me, ruffling my white hair with a gentle, calloused hand that had clearly delivered many a smackdown given the number of small scars decorating the back of it "Now you run along inside and have fun, Mr. Qrow and I need to have a little…talk."

"Tai I swear to Oum it's not what it sounds like-!" Qrow choked, waving a hand pleadingly as his brother-in-law strode towards him murderously, only to pause as his eyes met mine, a shit-eating grin threatening to split my face in half as I waved farewell from the safety of the doorway. "Oh you little shit-!" he swore, though from the look in his eyes he seemed torn between being angry & impressed in the half second it took for Taiyang's fist to reach his face.

* * *

 _ **Inside the Dragon's Den...**_

"Get Dunked on old man." I snickered, shutting the door behind me to cut off the sound of tenderizing meat.

A part of me felt kinda bad for using Taiyang to get back at Qrow, but it wasn't as if I'd lied to the man. If anything I'd done Qrow a favour by omitting some of the juicier things he'd let slip during his rants. Seriously, you think Taiyang got it bad? You should hear some of the things Qrow had to say about Raven. The tale about how his sister got her tattoo is a particular crowd pleaser.

Lesson for the day kids? Never trust your friends with secrets, especially if you're friends with a noisy drunk with abandonment issues.

"Well, hello there!" A vaguely familiar voice called out, snapping me out of my thoughts long enough to realise I'd wandered into the kitchen before I found myself gaping at the figure before me "What's your name little guy?"

"Ruby?" I stammered, gaping up at the woman in disbelief, for indeed the resemblance to the red reaper was strong in this one, only to mentally kick myself as my common sense returned. Putting aside the fact the woman before me was clearly older than Ruby, I distinctly remember Qrow stating that Yang and I were about the same age, which meant Ruby hadn't even been conceived yet.

With this in mind, it was clear that the woman before me was none other than Summer Rose, though in all honesty I felt my initial reaction was justified. Seriously, the one picture of Summer seen in-show did not do her resemblance to her daughter justice. Hell, she was even wearing an outfit eerily reminiscent of Ruby's Season 4 outfit, though she'd swapped the iconic cloak for an flour-stained apron and thick oven mitts.

"Ruby huh?" Summer Rose mused, one mitten covered hand coming up to cup her chin as she tilted her head to the side, as if tasting the word "I dunno, it's a nice name but it doesn't seem to suit you."

"S-sorry miss." I stammered, cursing internally as I tried to both get over my shock at bumping into Ruby's mother and try to find a way to make up for this mess "You just startled me is all. My name's Sans, Sans Dunkel."

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Sans-Sans Dunkel." Summer chirped, her silver eyes filled with mirth as she no doubt caught my look of confusion "I'm Summer Rose. Wanna Cookie?"

"Uh, sure?" I stammered, only now noticing the oven behind the woman, who promptly bent over, and no, I didn't stare at her ass, she was Ruby's mom for crying out loud, get your minds out of the gutter, to retrieve a tray laden with several freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

"There you go." She chirped, dropping one into my hand with a smile after blowing on it to cool it down "Could you let the others know they're ready? I need to keep an eye on the Cake."

"Yeah sure." I offered, idly munching away on the admittedly tasty treat as I sidled towards the living room, carefully sticking to the edges whilst keeping a wary eye out for Yang. While I appreciated Undyne's concern and would freely admit that I probably should get out more, my fear of being caught up in The Plot overpowered my desire to run around befriending the cast. One horrifyingly painful death was enough, thank you very much. Salem's pets were gonna have to work if they wanted my pale ass.

"Hey!" a scratchy voice called out, drawing my attention to a cocky-looking blonde I dimly recognised as one of my usual would-be tormentors. He kinda looked like Kid Gilgamesh, only replace cheerful arrogance with petulant anger and snazzy clothes with a plain brown shirt over orange shorts.

"What're you doing here Bookworm?" Blondie demanded, hands on his hips as he sized me up, clearly unhappy with my presence, a sentiment shared by several of his cronies that quickly formed around us.

"Livin' La Vida Loca." I snarked back, chuckling at the little brat's look of confusion as I turned away only to sigh as several other kids blocked my way "Seriously? You wanna start something here?"

"Nowhere for you to run and hide _this_ time." The brat boasted, arms crossed and both feet planted cockily as he smirked mockingly down his nose at me, his little gaggle of friends cheering him on to 'put down the freak'.

And yes, I will freely admit it did kinda piss me off to have some cocky little shit-stain that never worked a day in his life looking at me like that. The fact said shit-stain was taller than me wasn't doing my bad mood any favors either. But as I said before, while I don't particularly like children, I'm not the kind of guy who gets off on beating them up either.

Humiliate 'em? Sure. Traumatise 'em? Yes please. Physical violence? Nothing to see here Mr. Hansen.

So the second blondie took a swing at me, I simply leant back out of the way, letting his momentum carry him towards my extended foot which, coupled with a little psychokinesis, sent the little twat stumbling towards his would-be friends, who wisely stepped aside to let him crash into the punch bowl.

"C'mon man, don't go fallin' for me." I cheerfully taunted as the brat sputtered incoherently, smirking lazily at him as I leant against the wall "I mean, the birthday girl might take offence."

"Did someone say Birthday girl?" Summer chirped, stepping out of the kitchen with a huge ass chocolate cake, only to blink as she took in the sight before her "Oh Yang," she sighed, shaking her head with a pout that was far too cute for a woman her age "I told you not to make a mess!"

...WAT...

"Hey...wait a second..." I stammered, wondering, nay, pleading that I'd heard wrong, breaking out in a cold sweat as I slowly turned back to the punch bowl "When you say Yang...you don't mean..."

As if to confirm my worst suspicions, Blondie slowly rose from the floor like something out of a horror movie. The other kids, displaying superior survival instincts that would benefit them greatly if they ever applied to Beacon, wisely opted to vacate Ground Zero just as Blondie's head, bangs dampened by the punch & trailing party streamers, rose to reveal a pair of vengeful scarlet eyes that promised bloody vengeance.

"Oh Dear." Summer Sighed, stepping lightly to the side as I bolted for the kitchen door, burning vengeance hot on my heels "And it was going so well too."

* * *

 ** _End Flashback..._**

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how I arrived in my current situation: gasping for breath in a ditch, having spent the better part of the day trying to outrun a berserk, prepubescent Yang Xiao-Long.

You might be wondering why the hell I was so scared of a little girl that hadn't even unlocked her Aura. Well putting aside the fact that she was taller than me and in much better shape, as someone who grew up surrounded by girls I knew better than to try and defend myself physically no matter how bad things got.

Besides, semblance or not as cool as those those crimson eyes of hers were on screen, they became all too terrifying without the filter of a monitor between them and my very punchable face, even more so when she started hurling shit at me that no ordinary kid should've been able to lift.

At least Undyne couldn't complain about my missing out on my Cardio for the day. Hell, between the chase through the woods and dodging debris I'd probably set a new personal record for 'running like a little bitch'.

"I could've sworn she wore her hair in pigtails as a kid..." I wheezed, peering warily into the woods to check the coast was clear before clambering out of the ditch, dusting myself off with a grimace at the feel of mud and leaves in places I'd rather not mention "Christ what else could go wrong?"

I really need to learn to stop tempting fate, for no sooner did the words leave my mouth a girl's scream echoed sharply through the woods, the sound so unfamiliar without the bloodlust aimed at my person that it took a second for me to recognise the voice as Yang's.

'Oh Fuck You Murphy!' I swore, turning to follow the blonde only to curse as I realized I had no idea where she'd gone. Hell, for that matter I didn't even know where I was, the forest around me, previously silent and serene, taking on a decidedly sinister air that wasn't helped by the sun setting behind the treeline.

'This is why I never go outside...' I swore, gazing wildly into the suddenly sinister shadows until a flash of white drew my attention to Gaster's skull, the displaced scientist beckoning to me from the shadows with his skeletal hands, his expression somehow managing to come off as rather urgent.

"Lead the way Doc!" I urged, trusting the former Scientist as I promptly hauled arse, following his spectral form as he moved from shadow to ever-lengthening shadow deeper into the woods, noting offhandedly that the sun was slowly setting behind me, a clear sign to move faster if there ever was one.

'No way in hell am I getting caught out here after dark.' I swore. As bad as the Grimm could be during the day, they seemingly cranked it up to eleven the moment the sun went down. While Qrow had assured me that the woods had been purged less than a week prior, that didn't mean the occasional stray hadn't wandered in afterwards and was just biding it's time to strike.

Just as I was wondering if we were going the wrong way another scream from up ahead drove me forwards, bursting into a clearing only to pull up short at the sight of Yang clinging to a branch for dear life while a large black boar squealed angrily up at her from below.

'A Boarbatusk...' I grimaced, torn between relief that it wasn't a Beowulf or Ursa, which could have easily climbed the tree, and mounting terror at the fact I was within spitting distance of a Creature of Grimm, albeit a young one if the size was any indication.

Not that this made the situation any better mind you, even young Grimm can give Rookie Huntsman a run for his money. Just look at Jaune, though to be fair he didn't really qualify as a true Huntsman till after Pyrrha took him under her wing. Lucky bastard.

'This is bad...'I swore, eyeing the clearing warily as the Grimm continued to harass Yang, too caught up in its desire to gore the girl to notice me 'Even if I distract it so she can climb down we can't outrun it. And with all the noise it's making it won't be long before more Grimm show up.'

It went without saying that abandoning Yang was not happening. Even if her survival was pretty much set in stone I'd never be able to look myself in the eye if I left without at least trying to help. And so, despite my common sense screaming at me, I took a breath and stepped slowly out of cover, my eyes locked onto Yang's, which despite having returned to their normal purple hue were stained red from crying.

Holding a finger to my lips to keep her from crying out, I slowly crouched down to grab a nearby pebble while focussing on the flow of blood in my arm, my eyes locked on the back of the Boarbatusk, ready to run for the hills if it sensed my presence even as I wrapped the rock in my mana, rearing back and letting my makeshift projectile fly the moment I felt my mana had completely enveloped my would be projectile.

Now as I've said time and again I was never particularly active in my past life. Long story short, I was always the last one picked for any sporting event, either because I was too slow, to large, or just couldn't hit the broadside of a barn if I bodychecked it.

Well, maybe not that bad, but it should go without saying that my aim was never the best. Regardless, with this in mind I think it's safe to say no-one was more surprised than I, except possibly the Boarbatusk, when the magically enhanced pebble literally launched itself like a bullet the moment it left my fingers and not only managed to hit the Grimm square in the arse, if the beast's squeal of alarm was any indication it also somehow managed to lodge itself right where the sun doesn't shine.

It'd almost be funny...ok in all truth it was fucking hilarious but any amusement I might have felt for the situation much was decidedly short-lived, because entertaining or not, the fact remained that I'd just earned the Grimm's unmitigated ire & undivided attention.

And the Lesson for the day kids: Never attempt Surprise ButtSecks on a target that is out of your league unless you're absolutely certain of a 1-hit kill.

I should have run, believe me, noting would've made me happier at that moment than to leg it in the opposite direction, weaving between the trees in a futile hope that it would prevent porky from using it's 'Spin-dash' attack, but the moment those scarlet eyes, infinitely more terrifying than Yang's could ever dream of being, locked onto my own I found myself unable to move, the sheer, soul-crushing hatred emanating from the beast freezing me on the spot long enough for it to curl up and come flying at me faster than a cease & desist mandate from Sega.

"Shit!" I swore, not so much hurling myself to the side as stumbling over my own two feet in a half-assed attempt at dodging. In any case it was a second too late, for while the attack missed my body it managed to clip my left arm, the impact sending me spinning ass over tits towards the forest floor, a part of me dimly noting, in that detached manner of one suffering a concussion, that my left hand was broken in the same way you notice an eye floater.

'I can't take another hit like that' I realised distantly, too stunned by the impact to even process the blinding pain in my damaged limb as I struggled to push myself to my knees 'If I take a hit like that head on I'm dead...'

But even as I realized this, there was little I could do, my body refusing to move properly even as the Boarbatusk turned to face me once again, crimson eyes smouldering as it kicked the ground before charging right at me with a squeal of rage.

"That's quite enough of that."

I blinked and the Boarbatusk was gone, replaced by a slender back clad in a white cloak with red trim. Extending from the side of the cloak, gripped in a delicate pale hand, was a large double-edged two-handed sword with a sharpened hilt & foot-long handle. By all rights someone with a frame that slender should not have been able to lift a sword that large, yet for some reason the figure before me did so effortlessly.

"Mom!" Yang called out joyously, the excitement and relief in her voice snapping me back to reality, though all it managed to accomplish was to remind me of my broken hand, prompting me to curl up in a ball, teeth clenched in agony as I spotted the Boarbatusk sprawled on its back nearby, legs kicking furiously as it righted itself with a squeal of rage.

"You did well, both of you." Summer praised, turning to smile reassuringly over her shoulder, seemingly unaware of the Boarbatusk as it curled up and launched itself at her like Sonic aiming for one of the blatantly obvious weak points on Robotnik's mean machines "Leave the rest to me."

What happened next, for the life of me, I will never be able to forget.

One minute Summer was just standing there, sword in hand as the Boarbatusk drew closer. The moment it got within range of her sword however, Summer's shoulder _twitched_ , for lack of a better word, and the next thing I knew the Grimm was gone and the air was filled with leaves and white rose petals.

"All done!" Summer mused, sheathing her sword beneath her cloak & across her back with the ease of long-practice before turning to catch Yang as the blonde launched herself out of the tree, hugging the trembling blonde to her chest, whispering softly in her ear to comfort her.

"Now then, I think that's more than enough excitement for one day." she mused, setting Yang down as the sound of racing footsteps and raised voices heralding the arrival of a worried Taiyang and a battered Qrow, the former scooping his daughter up in a bone-crushing hug while summer knelt down to offer me a hand and a comforting smile "Come on, let's get back to the party. Those candles aren't gonna blow themselves out."

Maybe it was the combination of a concussion and the adrenaline racing through my system due to my broken hand, but as I reached out to take that proffered hand, I couldn't help but feel as if I'd been saved in more ways than one.

* * *

And thus ends Sans first meeting with Yang. As you can plainly see, it went swimmingly.

For those of you wondering why Yang has short hair in this, just imagine her with Ruby's haircut, only without the bangs framing her face. She most likely cut it to look like summer, which came with the added plus of being able to roughhouse with the other kids, though she'll start growing it out later to avoid being mistaken for a boy again. (lol)

The next few chapters will be spread out a bit, mostly covering how Sans & Yang's Childhood progresses up until the birth of RWBY and the Death of Summer Rose. After that the main plot should kick off so bear with me if the chapters seem a little rushed, I know there was a bunch of stuff I cut out of this one because it just felt like padding.

And yes, it is my head-canon that Yang got her love of puns/sense of humor from Summer. Most people would've gone with Tai but I figured Summer had to have had some influence on her step-daughter. Lord knows she didn't get it from Raven or Qrow. Also, expect more Qrow Trolling, the man's just so easy to mess with.

Kudos to anyone who can figure out the reference for Summer's fighting Style. I've seen too many fics which give her the same weapon as Ruby despite it being explicitly stated she was trained by Qrow & built Crescent Rose herself so I thought I'd give a shout-out to a recently completed series which also featured silver eyed warrior women.

How no-one else has made this connection yet, even in the wake of Season 3, I'll never know.


End file.
